


Different Circumstances

by magey88



Category: unOrdinary (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst, Attempt at Humor, Because it's John, Character Study, Gen, No Romance, Roommates, Swearing, name me a better duo, yes i know it's a story about roommates without actual romance i'm so sorry, yes there is angst AND humour
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:49:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28583778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magey88/pseuds/magey88
Summary: Headmaster Vaughn finds out that Blyke has been living in Isen’s room, and forces Blyke to move back in with John. With Blyke having no choice but to share his living space with John, he's constantly walking on eggshells to avoid angering Wellston's most troubled student.But, what if there's more to John than the merciless tyrant he's known for? Late-night confrontations and conversations can reveal a lot about a person. Will John and Blyke ever be able to see eye to eye?
Comments: 149
Kudos: 165





	1. RIP

**Author's Note:**

> This will take place after around episode 205ish? The safe house has started, and Blyke is no longer a vigilante.
> 
> Also: There will be no pairings/slash/romance in this story. This is not an “and they were roommates oh my god they were roommates” fic (although I love those).

It was math class, and Blyke was finally able to pay attention. These days, he was either too sleep-deprived to process his teacher’s words, or was distracted by Isen, who never could take school as seriously as he himself could. 

Today started off as one of those blessed days, where things just went  _ right. _ Because of his break from being a vigilante, and the hardest parts of setting up the safehouse were over, he was finally able to get a good night’s sleep. 

Also, Isen was skipping class. For the first time in a very long time, Blyke could finally focus.

That was, he thought he could. Sometimes life likes to dangle something nice right in front of your face, and once you let your guard down to reach for it, immediately it gets snatched away, leaving your poor soul to lament on what could have been.

This unfortunately was the case for Blyke.

“Alright class, you better pay attention to this next example, because I promise you that something similar  _ will  _ be on next week’s test-”

He flipped his notebook open to a crisp new page, ready to write when-

_ Can Blyke come down to the principal’s office. I repeat, can Blyke come down to the principal’s office. _

That stupid loudspeaker. If only Blyke could aim his energy beams at it.

“Well Blyke, it seems you're excused from this class,” his teacher commented helpfully.

Great, now he had to rely on Remi’s notes again. Blyke said his farewells and made his way over to the main office, annoyed but also curious with what the Headmaster could possibly want from him. It wasn’t like he was the Jack anymore.

_ Oh shit, it better not be about my little stint as a vigilante. _

Immediately Blyke’s palms began to sweat and his breathing quickened. He felt sick to the stomach, and did his best to think of convincing lies and excuses. Each was worse than its predecessor. Being sly or cunning were never strong suits of Blyke’s. 

His legs carried him without thinking, and before he knew it he arrived at the office. For a moment, Blyke considered making a break for it, running away and going into hiding - maybe Kuyo could help him. But of course, he couldn’t hide for long if the school and authorities wanted him - he wasn’t even a high-tier yet, at least officially, let alone a god tier. His only choice was to be his own advocate in front of Vaughn, right here and right now. 

A secretary nodded to him, gesturing for him to enter. Once he stepped in, he was relieved to notice that only Vaughn was in the room - no authorities were waiting to apprehend him yet. 

“Hello, Blyke. Have a seat.”

Blyke tried to read Vaughn’s face, to get a hint of whether or not he was truly in the clear, but for all it mattered he could have been staring at a brick wall - his expression was stoic and gave away nothing. What he said only made things even more ambiguous.

“Do you know why I called you over here?”

_ Lie ‘till you die,  _ Blyke thought.

“No, sir.”

Vaughn’s lips tugged downward slightly. 

“Blyke, I know you’re a good student. You get good grades, and you were a responsible Royal back when you had the position. While I’m disappointed that you were dishonest for so long, I can also understand the reasons behind your actions.”

_ Maybe instead of calling the authorities and arresting me, he’s going to take pity and just expel me. If only… _

“Because of that, I’m not going to punish you.”

Blyke’s heart stopped. He looked right into Vaughn’s eyes, searching for deception. This was too good to be true.

“Sir…”

“But! I cannot allow you to continue staying in Isen’s dorm for any longer. You of all people should be aware of how seriously we take protocol at this school. Starting tonight, I want you back in your own dorm room. I understand that your roommate is intimidating, but part of the real world is being able to take what life throws at you, and get through it.”

Of course it was too good to be true. And that phrase, “the real world,” that adults seemed to be so fond of always grated on Blyke’s nerves. Life at school, especially at Wellston, was just as “real” as any other scenario. Why people felt the need to invalidate young people’s experiences, Blyke had no idea, but it did nothing for his mood. 

After experiencing extreme panic, relief, and then disappointment and even more panic all in the span of a few minutes, Blyke was worn out and his inhibitions lowered. He spoke more freely to his Headmaster. 

“Calling John intimidating is the understatement of the century.”

Vaughn gave a wry smile. “I know he has his issues to work through, but we can’t just allow him to stay isolated, and  _ you  _ need to stay in your own assigned room.”

_ Probably for insurance purposes,  _ Blyke thought. Getting killed in his own dorm probably looks better than getting killed in someone else’s. At least then the school could blame him instead of explaining why they have no idea about what their own students do or their whereabouts. 

“Sir, but with all due respect, I’m pretty sure John will murder me at some point.”

“You have nothing to worry about - John will  _ not  _ go that far, I can assure you.”

“But he can still attack me! How can I sleep at night knowing he’s right there?!”

“Blyke, I understand your concerns. Do not worry, I already spoke to him. He will not touch you in your own dorm. Unfortunately, if that happens, then we will have to let John go from the school.”

For some reason, Blyke got the feeling that the Headmaster was more concerned about John leaving rather than him dying.

“But it’s the principle of it! He didn’t just hurt me, he beat up and hospitalized my friends! I can’t stay with him, you can’t make me!”

Vaughn gave Blyke a steely look.

“...Sir.”

“I understand your feelings. I admit, this isn’t the ideal situation. But as an Elite Tier, you need to set an example, and just stay in your own room. That’s it, nothing too huge or difficult. Just follow the rules. No debate, this is not up for discussion.”

Vaughn held Blyke’s eyes. “Do you have any other questions or concerns?”

“No, sir.”

“Excellent. You’ll be moving back in tonight. Go back to class now.”

Blyke left the office seething. He wanted nothing more than to just go outside and shoot his most powerful beam at the sky in rage. But that wasn’t feasible, lest he give the impression that he’s looking for a fight, or even worse, scare the lower tiers.

So he was left with the next best option. By now it was lunch, so he went off to find Remi and Isen. He was ready to rant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, kudos or comments are always appreciated :)


	2. Moral Support

“I can’t believe he’s making you move back in with John! That’s messed up, man.”

Isen looked genuinely afraid for Blyke. “I mean, what was Vaughn even thinking? John’s definitely not above brutalizing you while you’re asleep. Might as well reserve a bed for you at the hospital.”

“Or a plot of land in the cemetery,” Blyke muttered, causing Isen to stifle a snort.

“You guys, this isn’t funny! It’s wrong of the Headmaster to force you to do this, period. I can’t just let my friend walk into this… this… this _deathtrap!_ ”

Not surprisingly, Blyke’s friends were extremely concerned for Blyke’s future wellbeing and prospects in life. To be honest, Blyke would have been a little offended if they didn’t seem to care. He let them continue arguing amongst themselves.

“Remi, I don’t think you’re helping diffuse the situation. There’s nothing we could do to help him at this point. You heard Vaughn - he has to stay in his own dorm. My room is the first place they’ll look for him. Do you want him to stay with you?!”

Remi appeared to seriously consider it, but Blyke beat her to it.

“It wouldn’t work. Then I’m breaking two rules - staying in someone else’s room _and_ in the girl’s dormitories. Imagine the repercussions of that. Plus, I don’t want to get either of you involved in this any more than necessary.”

“But we’re your friends!” 

“Don’t worry,” he said with a wry grin. “It’s safe. Vaughn already spoke to John. He’s not allowed to lay a finger on me while in our dorm. Otherwise, he’s getting expelled from Wellston. I doubt a third school would take him, god-tier or not.”

This only seemed to make Remi even more upset. “But that’s the entire point! It feels as though Vaughn cares more about following these dumb arbitrary rules rather than considering his own students’ safety!”

“Don’t say that.”

“Why? It’s true!”

The implications of Remi’s words disturbed Blyke, and made his thoughts approach a dark place in his mind that for the majority of his life, he went out of his way to avoid. These days, while he was willing to confront those thoughts _sometimes,_ in the middle of a school day in the cafeteria was not one of those moments.

Because right now, for his own sake, he had to hope that maybe there was some grand reason behind this turn of events. It couldn’t just be the intention to make Blyke obey and defer and stop questioning things. It had to be more, this sick outcome that no one, _not even John himself_ asked for. Because if it wasn’t, then Blyke’s already diminishing faith in this world had just about evaporated. And right now, in this very moment, he was not ready to confront those thoughts just yet. 

He felt a tap on his shoulder. “Blyke, you okay?” Isen gave him a concerned look. 

“I’m fine.”

“You just… for a second there… You looked really miserable.”

“Isn’t having amazing vision supposed to be your thing?”

“I know you’re deflecting, but because I’m your friend I’ll pretend to be overly offended by that comment,” Isen replied while smacking his arm in show of his ‘anger.’ However, Remi still looked worried.

“Blyke, if you ever need _anything_ , you come to us. I don’t care if it’s in the middle of the night, or in the early morning, or while Isen’s getting his beauty sleep. If something happens, or even you just _think_ that something’s about to happen, come to one of us. You promise?”

“If it comes to that… I’ll consider.”

Remi’s eyes hardened. “That’s so vague, you-”

“That’s good enough,” Isen interrupted.

“For now,” Remi glared at Isen.

“ _For now,_ ” Isen replied in an attempt to appease her.

“Thanks, guys. This means a lot… But please don’t worry about me. If I get pummeled to death, it’s going to be out here, and not in the comfort of my own dorm room.”

Remi and Isen looked at each other worriedly. 

“So, have either of you seen John around today? Did he look any different or angrier than usual?” Blyke asked.

“Actually… I haven’t seen him all day. Not gonna lie, I kinda go out of my way to avoid him,” Isen said. 

Remi nodded. “I saw him briefly this morning but nothing looked out of the ordinary. It was pretty early, so there’s a chance he still didn’t know.”

Blyke sighed. “I guess it’s all still a big question mark.”

Remi frowned and held his eyes. “I’m sorry it has to be this way.” 

Blyke only nodded tiredly. For the rest of lunch, Isen and Remi continued the conversation onto smaller, less stressful topics for Blyke’s own sake. While they tried to include him, Blyke was never fully present. But who could blame him? They weren’t the ones who had to move in with the person who represented everything wrong in their society. They parted ways with an edge of discomfort and uncertainty.

* * *

For the rest of the day, Blyke kept an eye out for John, in hopes of gauging out what his reaction was to their current predicament.

Was he on a rampage? Was he deciding on the most efficient way to kill him in his sleep? Or was he just biding his time, because now that he thought of it, just what the hell did John do when he wasn’t not beating people up or screaming at them? Blyke had no idea what the answers to these questions were, but that didn’t stop him from thinking about them all day long. 

During the Safe House meeting, it came to Blyke’s mind that now his own dorm was the unsafest place in the entire school - was this some sick joke played on him by the universe? And even after, once all his school duties were over for the day, Blyke decided to avoid going back to Isen’s -and his former - dorm room until the last possible moment.

After studying in the library for a few hours, to the point that his neck was sore and his eyes aching, Blyke looked up to see Isen approaching his cubicle. Before finally moving into John’s - and technically his own dorm room, Isen was to help Blyke bring all of Blyke’s things from the dorm they used to share. 

It seemed the news still didn’t fully sink into Isen yet. He looked concerned and fidgety, but at the same time strangely calm, as though his best friend’s days weren’t officially declared to be numbered. Blyke was even more confused when Isen finally started talking.

“We’re getting boba.”

“I’m not in the mood.”

Isen gave Blyke a pointed look in response. “Let’s go, we’re running late.”

“What? Are you crazy, we still need to pack all my things so that I can return to my own room before curfew, and you want to get freaking _bubble tea?”_

“Bro, this is for your own good, self-love and all that shit,” Isen said. “Although,” he muttered, “there are better versions of ‘self-love’… when you don’t have roommates, that is.”

“I hate you.” 

Isen only winked in response. 

As they left the library, they seemed to be in a silent agreement that Isen would be in charge for the rest of the night, since Blyke didn’t seem to be in the right headspace. As they walked down the busy street, they took note that they only had an hour or two before it got dark. Isen finally broke the silence about halfway to their destination.

“You know, I’m doing you a favour. This might be the last time you’ll be able to drink something that’s not coming from a tube in the hospital.”

“You’re not really good at this ‘support’ thing, are you?” 

“I try my best with what I have.”

Blyke sighed. Why did he befriend someone who - unless his own neck was at risk - was notorious for his levity?

“Did you see John at all today?” he asked Isen, deciding to make the conversation at least somewhat productive.

“Actually, I did, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. It was between classes, so I just avoided eye contact and prayed he was in a ‘good mood.’”

“Well, was he?”

“No, he was too busy lashing out on Zeke for something. Like I said, nothing unusual.”

They finally made it to the bubble tea place, called Woba Boba of all ridiculous names. Once they sat down with their drinks, Isen started snickering to himself. 

“Have you lost your final brain cell? You’re gonna choke, dude.”

“I’m sorry - I just -” Isen cackled. “It’s too much, I just thought -” 

Blyke facepalmed. Wasn’t this outing supposed to make him feel better? 

“Look, look. Just imagine - John going here in one of his foul moods and ordering a large, sweet bubble tea with extra sugar and pearls. Or maybe lychee, or jelly? The personification of evil, ordering a boba, come on, that’s pretty absurd. The person at the register would deserve a raise, dealing with a customer like him.”

Blyke allowed himself a small smile. “And a bonus.” 

“Of course. And all their hospital fees are covered.” 

They fell into silence and sat for a while just focusing on their drinks. Blyke felt a little lighter. Isen’s humour could be morbid at times, but it definitely felt better laughing about his impending death, rather than panicking over it. Maybe Isen was onto something after all.

Isen then took on a more serious expression and put his drink down. “So, I was thinking…” He paused while fidgeting his hands.

“Yeah?”

“Well, how will the school even know that you’re staying with John? Do you think they’re really going to check?”

Blyke paused, somewhat surprised. He had a point.

“Actually, I have no idea. Shit.”

“Here’s what I think will happen,” Isen starts, “sometime during the first week, a teacher will check one of our rooms to see where you are - it’ll be a random day to catch you off guard. They may do it a second time, but by week two I doubt they’ll continue since you’ll be too rattled by those surprise visits. I was thinking, after that all happens if we’re discreet about it… maybe you could move back in with me?”

“Isen…”

Now Blyke was astonished. Isen, of all people, offering to break the rules for him? Wasn’t he supposed to be the one who was the most easily afraid, constantly deferring to authority? 

“I can see what you’re thinking. I know it’s not like me. But with your _nightly outings_ being broadcasted on the news, and Remi nearly getting killed, and all of us always in danger of being hospitalized by John, well… I have to draw the line somewhere. So if you want to move back in later, you can. My door is always open.” 

Blyke sipped his tea while trying to gather his thoughts. This day was definitely full of surprises, each one overwhelming him more and more.

“Do not call my activities ‘nightly outings’ ever again. It sounds wrong,” Blyke continued, “but thanks for offering… It means a lot, actually. I’m glad you care. But it’s for that reason why I have to say no. I don’t want you getting any more involved in this shit than necessary. Getting on John and Vaughn’s bad side? Hard pass. I’m not doing that to you.”

“You think I offered this without knowing what I was getting into? If I didn’t mean it, then I wouldn't have said anything!”

Blyke rolled his eyes. “I know you’re being sincere. You’re my best friend for crying out loud, I can read you well enough to distinguish at least that. But it’s not fair to you, and it’s not worth taking such a risk when I was promised to be safe anyway.”

“You’re an idiot! Do you think John actually cares?”

“Maybe I am, but I stand by it. Plus, wouldn’t we just be letting John win again? What, I’m so afraid of him that I can’t even sleep in my _own_ fucking bed? That even if the fucking _principal_ reassures me that I’m safe, I still run to my friend at night?” 

“This isn’t a matter of pride, it’s a matter of living off a tube for the rest of your life!”

“I won’t let him do that to me!”

“Dude. You can’t just will yourself to be stronger - this isn’t one of those shounen animes you’re obsessed with.” 

How could Blyke be so annoyed and yet so touched by his friend at the same time? What happened to the simpler days, when they would fight in the halls over a pen, or banter at lunch, trading insults and quips until things finally started becoming physical, resulting in a wall or some other school property being destroyed, and one or both of them at the infirmary. 

Why was it that once they began to stop using their abilities as liberally as they used to, things began to change so drastically? Once stripped of that special power that distinguishes a person from everyone else - that more or less determines one’s place in society _-_ it seems that everything else begins to change as well. Personalities become more mild. Talking becomes more appealing than fighting. Empathy replaces aggression, honesty replaces blind obedience. People with different ability levels start resembling actual people, not just caricatures of what society deems them to be.

Perhaps abilities themselves were inherently flawed, a perversion of human nature. Maybe the world was better off without them? 

Blyke blinked. _How did such bullshit even enter my mind in the first place? Abilities are the reason we even have a society, the foundation everything was built upon. Maybe the way we handle rankings and tiers right now is flawed, but you can’t just remake society from scratch._

These thoughts were becoming overwhelming. Blyke shut his eyes, trying to will them away because whatever this was, it was dangerous and had to stop and- 

“Hello? Earth to Blyke!”

“What-?”

“You zoned out there. I’m sorry if I overwhelmed you. How about this-”

“You didn’t overwhelm me.”

“Well that’s good, but hear me out. Stay with John, okay? Do it for your pride, or whatever noble reasons you’re deluding yourself with. But promise me that if you ever feel in danger, if you get an inkling that he’ll step out of line, you come back to me. Forget about everything else, all those obscenely high expectations you hold for yourself. Come to me, in one piece. Okay?” 

Blyke gulped. Maybe Remi and Isen were more similar than he originally thought. 

“Okay.” 

Isen smiled. “Good.” 

They finished their drinks in a comfortable silence after that, settled into a sense of calm - everything was said that needed to be said.

By the time they were finished and walking back to school grounds, the sun was low in the sky, but still not sunset. Both of them were thinking similar thoughts but with completely different perspectives - like different planets in the same solar system, close to each other relative to the rest of the universe, but still insanely far apart for mere humans to comprehend.

And then it happened. Isen squinted his eyes, looking straight ahead carefully, before taking on an expression of pure fear. He nudged Blyke.

“Look ahead,” he muttered.

“Is that… _John?”_

There he was, alone on the busy sidewalk, briskly heading towards their direction, a definite purpose in his gait. 

“Holy shit, holy shit… We’re gonna die,” Isen quietly said, seeming to resign himself to his doom. 

But then, as he got closer, it became apparent that John wasn’t heading towards them. There was an unfocused look in his eyes, as he got closer and closer to them. Only when he was a few feet away, did his eyes finally land on them. He gave them one of his dirtiest looks, his eyes flashing with a rage directed not only at them, but at himself and the world - though at the time Isen and Blyke didn’t know any better. He shoved his way through, walking between them and not slowing down even a little. Maybe it was in Blyke’s imagination, but he thought he heard someone mumble “fucking trash” nearby. 

Once John was safely out of hearing range, Isen and Blyke shared traumatized looks, their fear only just now starting to subside. 

“Hey,” Isen started, “was it just me, or was he headed in the direction towards Woba Boba?”

Blyke looked at him. There was a pause, a moment of awkward silence before they both burst into hysterics. Their laughter wouldn’t give in for minutes, and so they continued, gasping and out of breath, ignoring any strange looks they got from fellow pedestrians. It was too much. To reach a certain level of stress, eventually one passes a threshold, and everything becomes scarier, stupider, funnier - it was a state of extremes, and Blyke had been consumed within it for almost an entire day.

In retrospect, maybe the idea of John and bubble tea wasn’t very funny, but it did make sense. Even absolute villains needed to do mundane things, like eat, sleep, and participate in _self-love._ It's just how life was. Even the most exceptional people weren’t exceptions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, Blyke finally moves back in with John! So, should I have John slowly kill him, or show mercy with a quick death? Jk jk, I'm not that evil.
> 
> Thanks for reading, kudos or comments are always appreciated :)


	3. Moving In

It was finally the evening. Blyke was getting more and more anxious, trying to mentally prepare himself for what was to come. He wiped his sweaty palms, and tried to take a deep breath, but in his mind he heard his father's voice:

_It's unbecoming of a high tier to feel nervous._

_But I'm not a high tier,_ Blyke's younger self would have replied, looking up at the tall imposing figure in front of him dejectedly.

_You will be one day. All of us are._

And with those words, Blyke's younger self would have felt relief that he wouldn't be useless and weak, but important and strong, able to contribute to society. 

But now, Blyke didn't care as much about ability levels — or at least, he was making a conscious effort not to. It was difficult to completely change the way he was taught to think from ever since he was old enough to talk, but he was making an effort. Maybe on some level he should have sympathized with John, but anytime the idea even crossed his mind all he could remember was Isen's broken jaw, or Remi laying on the ground unconscious, the concrete surrounding her head cracked and broken. 

And now he had to live with this freak. Just excellent. 

“Are you sure you aren’t forgetting anything?” Isen interrupted his train of thought.

“This is the fourth time you’re asking me,” said Blyke. Sometimes he forgot that Isen of all people could be such a mom friend. Perhaps Isen’s paranoia translated into trivial things as well, and not just sucking up to high tiers. 

“I’m asking you for your own sake. What if you forget a volume of your _Garuto Chippuden_ manga, then what, huh?” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Stop denying it, we all know that you’re a weeb.” 

Blyke chose to ignore that comment, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. 

“It’s not like I’m moving across the country. If I forget something, then no big deal. We literally see each other everyday.” 

“But think about it, you can just hurl the volumes at John if he starts attacking you. There’s like 70 of them, so you could actually knock him out if you really tried! He’ll have no ability to copy, so he’ll be completely at your mercy.”

“That… actually isn’t a terrible idea, even for your standards. Maybe I’ll try it if I’m really desperate,” Blyke said before pausing for a few moments, deep in contemplation.

“But wait,” he continued, “John is good at regular hand-to-hand combat too, so he still might pummel me. Plus, maybe he’ll have Zeke or Cecile lend their power to him every night. Who even knows with him.” 

“You’re right… Okay so here’s what you do. Come right at curfew every night. Keep your head down, and keep your mouth shut. Answer all his questions with only yes and no. Leave the room as soon as you wake up. Don’t make eye contact, and don’t make any sudden movements. If you do all that, then you should be fine. Probably.” 

Isen had a point, not all was lost — yet. But was he willing to live his life in fear? Wasn’t this the exact thing he was now trying to fight against?

“Well, we better hurry since it’s almost curfew,” Blyke said. Both of them grabbed as many bags as they could carry in their arms, and made their way to Blyke’s new room. Between the two of them, only two trips would be necessary. As they approached the dorm for the first time, from the crack under the door it was apparent that the lights were on. They both looked at each other.

“Do we knock?” whispered Isen.

“No, it’s my own room, I’m not gonna let him think I’m going to just bend down to him or something,” Blyke said while fishing for his keys.

“Don’t be so loud, he might hear you!” Isen said as Blyke slowly opened the door to reveal a room devoid of John, but filled with the incessant sound of running water.

“Huh, where is he?”

“In the shower, you dumbass,” answered Blyke.

“I guess that bed’s mine,” he gestured towards the side of the room that didn’t look lived in. "Let’s just throw my stuff on the ground and get the rest as quickly as possible, before he’s done showering.” 

Isen only nodded in response, his face pale.

* * *

By the time Blyke was settled in, and Isen long gone, John was still showering. He opted to just shove all his things into a corner, and focus on organizing them later. It was only 10 o’clock but he was already exhausted — stress was tiring after all — but he was skeptical of his ability to fall asleep while in the same room as John. 

He then heard the shower finally turn off. Blyke stilled for a moment, and quickly grabbed a volume of his _Garuto_ manga, to make him seem busy and more importantly, _relaxed._

The door to the bathroom opened, and from it came a cloud of steam, and from the steam came John, with only a towel wrapped around his waist. 

Despite his instincts screaming at him to not do it, Blyke couldn’t help but dart his eyes towards John, perhaps out of morbid curiosity — the same way he couldn’t help but to look at roadkill for a brief moment, whenever he happened to pass by it. And boy, did he immediately regret doing that. Because John looked really fit. If there was any hope in Blyke standing a chance in a fight against him without abilities, it was rapidly draining away. 

He moved his eyes back to his manga, but not processing anything going on within its pages. He listened carefully as John made his way across the room silently, and heard him rummage through his clothes. 

_Is he just going to pretend that I don’t exist for the entire time? I guess I wouldn’t mind that…_

But of course, Blyke had to jinx it.

A fist slammed at the wall near his bed — how unnecessary — and Blyke flinched. 

“Listen here you fucking trash. If I get even a whiff of you trying anything funny then I don’t give a shit what Vaughn says, I’ll maim you. Got it?” John looked at him expectantly, his eyes flashing while waiting for an answer. 

“I’m not here to try anything. I just need a place to sleep,” Blyke replied, trying his best to hold John’s gaze. Somehow, John managed to look even more pissed off.

“Like I’d believe you, you’re just like everyone else in this shit school. But listen closely. I may not be allowed to do anything to you here, but outside of this room I will show you no mercy if you even think about going against me. I’ll fucking kill you.”

“I’m not going to bother you.” 

John gave Blyke one last final glare, before going off to his bed. It seemed as though he was too tired to continue the one sided argument. Blyke then decided it was time for his turn to shower. The faster it’s done, the faster he can just go to bed — and then what? Nevermind, there was nothing good waiting for him. He just needed to do something, and not just awkwardly sit there pretending to read manga.

It was then that he noticed that he was holding the manga upside down the entire time. 

_Hopefully he doesn’t think that I was spying on him or something._

Even though he kind of was.

* * *

Once out of the shower, Blyke noticed that John’s side of the room already had its lights off, and John underneath his bed’s covers, the light from his phone screen peeking out.

_So he’s one of those people who have to fall asleep while on their phone. Huh. Didn’t see that coming._

Hastily, Blyke threw on his nightclothes, eager to turn his own light off so that he could pretend to be asleep, instead of acknowledging the awkward and ominous silence. 

It was a long night. He tossed and turned, afraid to even cough lest he accidentally wakes up the monster near him. Except, Blyke noticed that he didn’t seem to be asleep either. No matter when Blyke looked over to John’s side of the room, the incessant white light coming from his phone was still on. Midnight. 2 AM. 3:13 AM. 

The small white light was still glaring and stark.

_Does this guy not know what dark mode is?_

By the time Blyke was finally able to drift off, the first trickles of daylight filtered through the blinds. John’s phone was still on.

* * *

The next morning, when Blyke woke up John was already gone. Blyke sighed in relief. 

_Maybe things will only get better from here._

However as usual, Blyke was wrong. Arlo managed to corner him in the courtyard on his way to first period. 

“I heard you’re staying with John.” 

Blyke sighed, knowing it must have come from Isen. Still quite the gossip, as usual. 

“I am.”

A brief look of concern flashed in his eyes, before it was replaced by something else. “Do you think you’ll be okay?”

“Probably.” 

Arlo looked skeptical but decided to let it drop. There wasn’t much he could do to help Blyke at this point, but there was something that Blyke could do to help him.

“I was hoping you could keep tabs on John while you’re living with him. Nothing too serious — just keep an eye on anything strange that he does, and report back to me.”

“Everything he does is strange, though,” Blyke replied, with a hint of annoyance. Was Arlo trying to get him killed? 

“I know this sounds bad, but you have to understand. John is unstable. Someone as unstable as him is prone to disrupting the hierarchy, or getting innocent people hurt. I’m not telling you to rummage through his things or anything. Just tell me if something seems off about him, that’s it.” Arlo looked at him, his face betraying no worry at even the possibility of Blyke saying no. Arlo may no longer be King, but even with all his training, Blyke was still heavily outclassed. 

“Do you understand what you’re asking of me?”

“I—”

Maybe Arlo did outrank him. But so what? If he had to deal with John every single night, falling asleep in the same room as him, then he could definitely deal with Arlo. 

“You know how violent he is. You know what he’ll do to me if he finds out. I’m sorry, but I just can’t.”

Arlo pinched his nose, finally hints of stress beginning to reveal themselves on his features.

“Blyke, you of all people should understand the severity of this situation —”

“Fine, I’ll do it,” Blyke lied, realizing that if he continued resisting Arlo would just pull rank on him. 

Arlo sighed in relief. “Good. Just report back to me if anything suspicious happens. Remember, it’s not a job you have to worry about. Just do everything as you would normally, and everything will be fine. I know you’ve got this.”

“I’ll do my best,” Blyke said while avoiding Arlo’s eyes. 

He decided to keep to himself the fact that John may or may not be an insomniac.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can anyone tell I’m in my Naruto phase currently? Maybe when I get more familiar with the lore, I’ll write a fanfic for it, who knows. But don’t worry, this fanfic comes first! Thanks so much for all your kudos and lovely comments. And do not ever feel bad for telling me to update—in fact I could really use the extra push!
> 
> Any thoughts on this story’s pacing? Too fast or too slow? It’s difficult for me to determine since I’m writing this, so your thoughts would be really appreciated! I feel like pacing can make or break a story.
> 
> Also I have a [Tumblr](https://magey88.tumblr.com/) now! If the link doesn’t work, my username is the exact same as it is here: magey88. Come chat!


	4. What If

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I got a little carried away with this chapter. 4000+ words!! I'll probably have to make a few edits later, but I was just too excited to post. 
> 
> Thank you so much for all the super sweet comments, they actually made my day. :’) You guys are pretty awesome – if I could, I would bake you all a cake. And constructive criticism is also welcome since I want this story to get better and for myself to grow as a writer.

It was still just the morning, and already his sleepless night coupled with his confrontation with Arlo drained Blyke for the rest of the day. Blyke walked off to class in a foul mood, black bags under his eyes. Meeting Remi and Isen in their first-period class, Blyke barely spared a nod to acknowledge them.

“He looks alive,” Isen whispered to Remi, relief filling his voice.

“But just barely,” she replied. “I think he needs some coffee to perk up. Or maybe some orange juice.”

“I can hear everything,” Blyke snapped at them. 

His friends didn’t even have the decency to pretend to look guilty, talking about him _right in front of him._

Yes, he was stressed and tired, and a little pissed off. But at this point, he just wanted to concentrate on his classes, so that his grades could be maintained, and avoid any uncomfortable explanations to his family. 

At lunch, Blyke was hoping for a peaceful, uneventful meal. It was Remi’s turn to supervise the Safe House, and Isen was off stalking a poor soul for his next “big break.” While he loved his friends, he really needed some time alone to recharge from all the sudden events happening to him lately. But it seemed that not everything had yet to transpire, and events were waiting to happen, in line one after the other, each its own nuisance. 

“Hey.” 

Blyke looked up from his sandwich, only to meet bright blue eyes gazing down at him. 

“Seraphina.” 

Her eyes flickered over to the empty chair beside him. So much for a lunch filled with solitude. 

“Can I sit?” 

Blyke held back a tired sigh. He supposed this meeting was inevitable anyway. “Go ahead.” 

As she sat down with the grace only someone who was born with power could have, Blyke tried to gauge her expression. He always had trouble reading Seraphina. Even as Queen, there was a disinterested air to her, appearing almost standoffish. But this time, he at least had an idea as to why she sought him out. When she began to speak, his suspicions were confirmed.

“So. You and John.” 

Blyke averted his eyes and made a choking noise. 

“Why did you have to word it like _that_?” 

Seraphina blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Nevermind,” Blyke responded quickly. “Just forget about it.” 

“Okay then… Anyway, I’ve heard the news about you two.” 

Blyke sighed in exasperation. _Just ignore it and move on._

“What about it?”

“Well, I guess nothing, really. There isn’t much to say. I’m not gonna ask you to spy on him or something, it’s just–”

“Oh, thank God,” Blyke interrupted. Finally, some good news. Seraphina gave him an amused glance.

“Let me guess, Arlo already put you up to it?” Blyke stared at her, impressed. Maybe she was more perceptive than she let on. 

“Literally just this morning, he cornered me before my first class even started. I don’t even know what to think.” 

“Hm. Are you gonna do it?”

“Do what?” 

“Listen to Arlo.” 

“You mean spy on John?” 

“Yeah.” 

Blyke made a gagging sound. “Of course not!” 

Seraphina gave him a skeptical look. “Are you sure about that?” 

“Yes, why would I spy on him? Not only is it putting _me_ at risk, but it just feels wrong, messed up even. Spying on him is what got us into this situation in the first place,” Blyke said before taking a bite out of his sandwich. 

“Well, it depends on the situation, don’t you think? I’m sure Isen told you by now of the investigation I did into his situation at New Bostin…”

“I know, I know. I kind of have mixed feelings about it.” 

“Look, what Arlo did to John before was to hurt him, to break him. I’m doing the opposite, I just want to help him,” Seraphina said, beginning to sound defensive. 

“Just because your intentions are good doesn’t mean that–”

“You think I want to see him this way?” Seraphina snapped. “It really hurts to see him this angry. He was my friend, my best friend even. I want to hate him, I really do, but here I am, still worrying about him – I honestly have no idea what to do. Maybe it’s easy for you to judge my actions, but you never knew him like I did. You don’t have any attachments to what he used to be.” By now, Seraphina was breathing heavily. 

Blyke stared at her, at a loss for words. He tried to come up with a response, but each time a new defense came to mind, he rejected it. Now that he thought of it, he never did consider the person John was before becoming Joker and King, and how his sudden shift in personality must have impacted Seraphina. 

“I’m sorry, I just – I don’t even know. I’m so stressed lately. My ability is gone and so is my best friend. Not only that, but he’s miserable and he’s dragging everyone down with him, and I just feel so stupid for thinking he was a cripple for so long, and useless without my powers. I'm tired of pretending to be strong for everyone.”

Blyke was shaken. Just a moment ago she was being her usual composed self, but now here she was, vulnerable and laying her emotions bare to him, baggage demanding to be addressed. Blyke considered his next words very carefully. “I guess misery loves company.” 

Seraphina gave a slight smile. “Heh. You’re right. Kind of feels like you’re calling me out though.” 

Blyke looked uncomfortable at her words. “So, maybe it’s a little too soon but…”

Seraphina gave him an expectant look. 

“But, I’m still not sure why you’re here. I don’t understand. First you say that you won’t ask me to spy on John for you, but you also kind of defended spying on him, and well – I don’t know, what do you want?” Today was not Blyke’s most articulate day. 

“I can’t even tell you exactly why I’m here, to be honest. I don’t know, maybe it’s because I miss the old John, and was hoping for some good news… Sounds pretty stupid when I say it aloud, though.”

“No,” Blyke shook his head. “I think I get it.” 

“Really?” Seraphina asked while looking hopeful.

“Well, I guess I understand the feeling in theory, when you don’t put a name or face on the person you’re missing. Then I can see where you’re coming from. But the moment I remember that it’s _John_ you’re talking about, well – I don’t know. It makes less sense when John is in the picture.” 

“Everything makes less sense with John.” 

They both sat in silence for a while, simply eating their lunches, each lost in their own thoughts. Eventually, Seraphina spoke again.

“I hope you’ll be okay rooming with him.” 

“I hope so too.”

Seraphina paused, before saying: “I hope that he’ll also be okay.” 

“I’m not–”

“I know you won’t purposefully try to upset him, but – I don’t know – just be careful with what you say, okay? I think John is actually pretty sensitive, when you really think about it.” 

Blyke highly doubted that.

She continued, “I guess that’s why I came here. To wish you luck. So, um – good luck.” 

Blyke considered his next words carefully. “I’ll be honest with you, I don’t understand your relationship with John. But I do respect what you have – well, had – with him, so I’ll do my best to make this arrangement work. But remember, I’m doing only half of the work. And you’re not useless just because you lost your ability. Don’t base your entire being on them, you’re better than that. You’re doing so much better than most people would in this situation. So stop putting yourself down, you don’t deserve it.” 

Seraphina’s face began to relax, more walls coming down. She gave Blyke a small smile. 

“Thanks, Blyke. I really hope this roommate thing works out between you and John. You know, you guys are more similar than you would expect – well, I’m talking about his old self here. I think that in another world, you guys would have actually been pretty good friends.”

 _What the actual fuck._ Blyke looked at her in concern, wondering if maybe she had some sort of brain damage, or maybe losing her abilities really did compromise her in _other_ ways (mainly mentally). Or perhaps she was trying to be funny, except of course she failed spectacularly. But no, giving her a second look, Blyke noticed her innate sense of sureness and confidence was back. Seraphina truly believed her words with her entire being. All Blyke could do was politely nod, as you would to any other person who was spewing craziness at you. 

“Hey, I see that look. You think I’m insane, but no one knows John better than I do in this school. And I know you well enough.”

“Of course.” 

Seraphina only smirked in response, before getting up and taking her tray. 

“I’m glad we spoke, Blyke. Once again, good luck.” And just like that, Blyke was alone once more, trying to process the entire interaction. 

For some reason, Blyke had the feeling that she was wishing him luck with many things. 

* * *

And so life went on, with John and Blyke as roommates. It didn't reach the same high levels of intensity as did the first night for a while, and slowly things began to resemble normal once again. 

On his third day back to his original room, Isen’s prediction came true – at ten in the evening, like clockwork, a teacher came in to check in on Blyke’s whereabouts. Blyke was briefly questioned on how he was adjusting to the move, and Blyke lied through his teeth and said all was well, because what other choice did he have? For one, John was in the very same room, and Blyke simply didn’t have it in him to badmouth him to his face and provoke his wrath later on. That, and he was also taking Seraphina’s request seriously. Not to mention, as Isen would put it: Blyke was no snitch. Besides, ever since that first night, their interactions have been pretty limited. It honestly felt like the whole interaction was just for theatre, to pretend that the school cares. 

On the seventh day, once again a different teacher came in; the same drill. By now it was probably safe to take Isen up on his offer to move back in with him, but Blyke was too stubborn. He would not show John that he was afraid. And maybe, deep down he was considering _the rest_ of Seraphina’s words. Not that he would ever admit it, even to himself. 

There was however something that really stood out to Blyke, something that Arlo would be really eager to hear, to eat up and store in the back of his mind for who knows what – some semblance of power? 

John was not sleeping. 

At first, Blyke assumed that maybe it was his presence that was making John too nervous to fall asleep — he was essentially defenseless when in slumber, with no abilities to help him. Blyke could relate to that feeling, leaving yourself completely vulnerable and open to the person you're sharing a room with while sleeping. He himself had trouble falling asleep initially, but as the days went on, the exhaustion caught up and living in fear became unsustainable. Gradually, day by day, he fell asleep a little quicker, until soon he was almost back to his usual schedule. 

But not John. John would be awake before he fell asleep, and anytime he woke up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom or to get a glass of water, he would also be awake, his phone screen blinking, or his light on. In fact, for the first few days, Blyke didn't even see John sleep once, although he had to have nodded off at some point _._

And then there was that special night, the first time Blyke ever saw John sleeping. In fact, it actually woke him up. 

He was having a nightmare. And a loud one at that. Thrashing in his sheets, he would say a jumble of words and gasps, slurred to the point where Blyke could only make out a few: monster, stop, and… Keon? Was he referring to a name, or was it just some mumbled nonsense? 

In this state, John looked absolutely miserable. Blyke was tempted to put him out of his suffering and wake him up, except for the fact that he still had an iota of self-preservation left within him. 

But still, he almost – almost – felt bad for him. It must be really stressful to not sleep at night, or in the rare occasions that you do fall asleep, your mind turns against you. No physical rest, no mental rest. It must feel like some sort of cruel punishment from the universe. Perhaps, Blyke thought, this is what John deserves for the cruelty he imposes onto others every single day. 

_But no one deserves this type of suffering._

But maybe John does. 

_But then don’t the rest of us, too?_

But everyone else is at least trying to change. The Safe House. It’s people like John and the Authorities who hold the world back.

_He's a teenager, just like me._

Maybe things were a little more complicated than Blyke initially thought.

* * *

Two weeks have passed. Blyke was still in one piece, and nothing had changed. Little time was spent in his dorm, and the limited interactions he had with John were uneventful. The most interesting ones were one-sided – mostly Blyke witnessing his unconscious ramblings on the rare occasion that he witnessed John sleeping. Same old, same old. 

It was the evening, and he was at the library when Isen approached him. 

“He’s a fucking psychopath,” his voice rang through what was once the dead silent rows of shelves.

“Will you not be so loud? You’re gonna get us kicked out again.” 

It was then that Blyke processed the meaning of Isen’s words. He remembered that it was Isen’s turn to supervise the Safe House that afternoon after school. Blyke saw red. 

“What did he do?” 

“What did he do? More like what he didn’t do. Couldn’t even show up himself to deliver his threat. He sent _Zeke_ of all people, to tell us that anyone participating in the Safe House is actively going against his orders and will be treated as such.”

This time, the silence rang louder than Isen’s words. He remembered his promise to Seraphina and inwardly apologized to her.

“Fuck that piece of shit, I’m going to talk to him.” 

“Wait, no, you completely missed the point – I was just _venting_ to you – don’t go and get yourself killed!”

“You’re gonna let him treat you like trash? Stomp all over you and all our efforts to preserve some sense of normalcy in the school?” 

“It’s called self-preservation.” 

Blyke realized that this conversation was not going to end anytime soon, so he gathered his things and led Isen out of the library, and outside to the courtyard, which was mostly empty in the evening. Here loud voices would be blended and carried away with the wind. 

“You’re going to let lower-tiers get hurt – continue to get hurt – at the first sign of some struggle? It’s not all smooth sailing, so what? That’s just part of life. But I can’t just sit here and do nothing like I used to. Not if I want to see any change in the system.”

“You can’t change anything if you keep on getting sent to the hospital!”

“I won’t be going anywhere.” 

“What?” 

Blyke gave him an exasperated look.

“I’m gonna confront him in our dorm. That way, he can’t lay a finger on me.”

Isen gave a hysterical laugh. “Are you stupid? I know you’re book smart, but this? Blyke, he’s gonna target you the next day the minute you step out of the dorm.” 

“Not if I change his mind.” 

“Change his mind?! You’re fucking delusional, man. Do you see John? That guy has some deep, twisted problems inside his head. You know his story – late-bloomers often grow up to be really messed up people. You think one conversation is going to change him, undo the very essence of who John is?” 

“And what’s that?”

“A fucking problem child!”

_Sounds a bit like an oversimplification if you ask me._

“I’m not trying to change him. I’m just going to explain to him that the Safe House isn’t there to work against him.” 

“But that’s exactly what we created it for.” 

Blyke glared. “No, we made it so that people would feel safer. It’s the first step to making Wellston a better place for all tiers.” 

“Sounds like the same thing to me,” Isen said offhandedly. 

“Well, it doesn’t change anything. I’m still talking to him tonight.”

“Look man, I know you’re my best friend and all, but if you die for such a stupid reason, then I am _not_ writing a flattering eulogy for you at your funeral.” 

“Better than you writing nothing at all.”

* * *

Once again, Blyke arrived at his room at the cusp of curfew. He saw John on his laptop, sitting at his desk. Sometimes Blyke wondered what John searches on the internet, what websites he goes to; it was hard to imagine him doing anything for fun, besides bashing people’s skulls in and kicking puppies. 

He decided that now was as good a time as any to start talking. He tried his best to make a strong start.

“Hey.” 

John was silent.

“John,” Blyke tried again. Slowly, he looked up from his computer, looking mad.

“The fuck you want?”

Blyke tried to gather his last few remaining nerves.

“Look man, what you did today, sending Zeke to threaten the Safe House was not cool.” 

“And why am I supposed to care?” John spat.

“Because you’re not just threatening the Royals, you’re also threatening mid and lower-tiers – people who are defenseless and have done nothing wrong. You have a problem with us and not them, so leave them out of it.”

“I have a problem with everyone. And clearly I’m not threatening the Royals, since I’m King. I _am_ the Royals. And what are you exactly?” 

Now Blyke was seething. “What do you mean, _you have a problem with everyone._ I get that some people bullied you, but not everyone! They don’t deserve any of this. And even if they did, why continue on this cycle of violence?”

“ _Not everyone bullied me._ Fuck you and your bullshit. Most of you did.” 

“Not the lower-tiers!”

John gave a sick, menacing smile, sending shivers down Blyke’s spine. He was beginning to miss the death stare.

“Sure. Maybe I’ve never been attacked by a low-tier or by another cripple somewhere out there. But that’s only because they were born that way – born weak, at the bottom, with no choice but to be subservient and to gather strength in numbers. They couldn’t attack someone like me even if they wanted to. But if these same weaklings were powerful, they would be just like any other powerful ability user – a piece of shit. And you know why? Because everyone in this society is fucking trash, even if not everyone is lucky enough to get a chance to show it to the world.”

Holy shit. Blyke had never heard John say so many words in one go. He tried his best to get over the shock and formulate some sort of response. 

“Not everyone is bad though, you’re just projecting whatever vermin is eating away at your thoughts onto others–”

“Shut up.” 

“What about Seraphina, wasn’t she your friend?” 

“I said shut the fuck up!”

And like that, before Blyke even had the chance to close his mouth, he felt his breath leave him, a fist slamming into his stomach. 

John snapped. 

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about! Don’t say her name in front of me ever again!”

Suddenly, Blyke was on his knees, gasping for breath. Even without any ability, John’s raw strength was overwhelming. 

“You’re all fucking trash, and the worst part is that none of you can even bring yourselves to admit it!”

“Maybe we are,” Blyke coughed, “but at least some of us are trying to do something about it!”

This time it was a kick to his stomach. 

“Is this what you call action? Where was all this before I took down the Royals? When I was the one who was being kicked down at my lowest? Face it, the only reason you care is that for once, everyone is getting screwed over equally, including the high-tiers!”

Blyke thought about his time as a vigilante, and how he observed the lower-tier neighbourhoods, and how they were subject to so much unjust treatment. Ignored by the authorities, abused by powerful people. 

“It’s not just that,” he hissed. 

“Then what? Why is it that you suddenly care?”

Blyke tried to catch his breath. He was still not breathing properly after the assault on his stomach. 

“Because I’ve changed.” 

“Pfft. Don’t flatter yourself.” 

Another kick, this one landing on his shoulder. John looked down on him.

“You couldn’t even confront me outside of this room. You’re a fucking coward.” He paused, before continuing, “The very idea of a safe house is fundamentally flawed. The fact that you need an elite or high-tier supervising is counterintuitive to its entire purpose. The members will eventually turn on each other. There will be more violence in its fallout.”

Blyke looked down on the floor, covered in the spit he coughed up. 

“You can’t uncondition a lifetime’s worth of values and beliefs that are completely entrenched within our society, with a few board games and smiles. You’re just deluding yourself,” John spoke, sounding oddly calm. 

“Then what do you suggest we do to help if you think the Safe House is so stupid?”

“For every last one of you to go die.”

Blyke couldn’t tell whether or not this was John’s idea of a sick joke. 

“I don’t know what to say to you. We just want to make the school better. I admit, until recently I was a shitty person. I probably still am, but at least I’m trying to do better. What are you doing?”

“Don’t bother, it’s futile. A waste of time.”

And suddenly, Blyke thought he understood John a little better. He stood up.

“Maybe your methods just weren’t effective.”

John looked away. “It’s a lost cause – for anyone. Just go on and report me to Vaughn already. That way I’ll finally be gone, and your safe house will be left alone. No one will be here to disrupt your self-indulgent charity work for the weak.” 

It was then that Blyke realized that John was right. John attacked him not once, but three times. All it took was one trip to Vaughn in the morning, and John would be gone for good. Just like that. 

_So why am I not excited?_

“I guess you lucked out after all, are you gonna tell all your friends that you got rid of the monster?” 

“Why aren’t you still beating me?”

“I don’t want to upset the wrong people.”

_What?_

It was then that Blyke came to a decision that he was certain that he would quickly come to regret. 

“I’m not telling Vaughn.” 

John whipped his head towards Blyke, his eyes flashing. “Say that again.” 

“I don’t want administration to get involved with our problems. This is between you and me.” 

_And maybe he did make a few good points… Maybe._

“You think that just because you’re gonna do this, I’ll suddenly be nicer? You must be a special brand of stupid–”

“I’m doing this because I want to. Because maybe you made some good points.” 

_And because expulsion probably won’t do him any favours._

He remembered Seraphina’s words from the very first day.

_I think John is actually pretty sensitive._

_In another world, you guys would have actually been pretty good friends._

Blyke was aware that John was detained by the Authorities after being kicked out from New Bostin. While before, he wouldn’t bat an eye at this information, these days he was highly weary of them. Just what happened to John between switching schools? He had a strange suspicion that whatever it was, he was feeling the effects even to this day. He also had a feeling that this would not be the last John would be seeing of them, if he were to get expelled. And so, Blyke resigned to keeping his mouth shut. No one deserved the wrath of the Authorities. Not even John.

“You’re not afraid that I’ll beat you again?” Now, John looked more confused than angry.

“If I wanted to, I could have left this fucking room last week. I have other places to go.” He thought of Isen and Remi. “But here I am. I stayed here because I chose to. I don’t care who you are, this is my room and I’m staying. Beat me all you want, call me trash, and call yourself a monster. Whatever helps you sleep at night. Your dumb games don’t work on me.” 

And for the first time in a very long time, John realized that someone was no longer walking on eggshells with him, afraid that any second he will explode and murder them on the spot. Likewise, he was not being treated as the lowest of the low, the bottom of the social hierarchy. He was not being treated as though he were a monster or a cripple, but as just an asshole roommate. 

He briefly wondered whether or not Blyke was telling him the truth, or was merely bluffing to save his own skin. But quickly he realized that there was absolutely no point in lying. He would be gone that very same morning anyway. This evening even, if Blyke was that desperate to get rid of him (which he should be). It was clear that John was no longer in a violent mood – there was no immediate threat to Blyke’s physical well being anymore. He would do nothing to stop Blyke from reporting. There was absolutely no reason for Blyke to lie.

And for once, John felt a slight weight lifted from his shoulders. Sure, he still hated everyone, but that doesn’t mean that he hated equally; and for the first time in a very long time, the scales have been ever so slightly tipped.

* * *

The next day, Blyke kept his word. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was the dialogue between Blyke and Sera weird and choppy? That was my intention at least… I feel like a lot of emotionally charged conversations are all over the place, since the participants aren’t always in their best state of mind. As long as it wasn’t too confusing for the reader to understand. Perhaps Sera is a little OOC, but at the same time, you gotta give her some slack. Her life sucks at the moment. 
> 
> It must be painful to read about John this way. I know, deep down we all just want to see John get at least somewhat redeemed. But alas, there needs to be conflict before resolution, so here we are. The angst has seeped its way into the fanfiction.
> 
> Next chapter: I am both excited and scared to write. Until then :)
> 
> [Tumblr](https://magey88.tumblr.com/)


	5. Taking Action

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know. You probably thought I was dead — or worse, that I’ve dropped the story. But have no fear, I am here, and with another long chapter. In case you were wondering, there were two reasons that this chapter took forever to post:
> 
> 1.) It was difficult to write. I think I got a little too ambitious with the chapter, but somehow I prevailed. Hopefully it lives up to the rest of the story :')  
> 2.) My laptop broke. So yeah, I had to get a new one. Please send some love, having no laptop in this day and age is like being naked. T_T
> 
> And again, thank you to all your sweet comments!! You guys are truly making my days. I love reading all your discussions. And to everyone still reading the story, I’m glad you’re still here, sticking along with me for the ride that is John’s feelings.

Blyke was stunned. True to his word, he kept his silence about John. His bruises were covered up easily, and the next day he carried on as though nothing had happened. But that didn’t change the fact that he was stunned, shaken to his core and furious all at once. Listening to John’s slew of arguments, there were actually some legitimate points made in between his contempt for humanity — or more accurately, those very points were laced in with his cynical outlook on life. Blyke didn’t know what that said about himself, the fact that he was even considering some of what John had uttered that night. 

But what was even more concerning was the fact that last night’s argument inspired something to reawaken in Blyke, something which he thought was now put behind him once and for all, after nearly getting exposed. 

He wanted to be a vigilante again. 

And yes, maybe his reasons still weren’t ideal, but he couldn’t help himself. John’s words rang throughout his mind for the entire day, an incessant loop preventing him from truly focusing on anything else:

_Face it, the only reason you care is because for once, everyone is getting screwed over equally, including the high-tiers!_

He wanted to — no, he _had_ to prove John wrong. To prove _himself_ wrong, because on some level, those words struck a chord deep inside him, and now that all was said and done, he could not unhear those words. Their impact was absolute, and to some extent that made Blyke scared. 

Maybe his reasons for going out, being a superhero were still selfish. Initially they were so that he could get stronger, and protect himself and his friends. 

_But my new reasons just make it sound more like a vanity project._

_Just a way to make myself feel like a good person._

_Me first, the others later._

No, this was more than just about him. If he was going to suddenly be this champion for lower-tiers, then he had to practice what he preached, and take action. Clearly, John thought the Safe House was useless. But actually going out, standing up for what was right and undermining the system — that was action of the highest calibre, in Blyke’s opinion. 

And he couldn’t just stand there and do nothing.

* * *

These thoughts haunted him throughout the day. During a study session with Isen, Blyke couldn't keep them to himself anymore. 

“Hey Isen, do you think the Safe House is actually working?”

Isen looked up from his laptop, in his room with Blyke. He gave a puzzled look. “Don’t you think it’s a little late to be asking about that?”

“I’m just wondering.”

Interest piqued, Isen swung his office chair to face Blyke. “Well, there don’t seem to be any fights yet…”

“But isn’t that just because we’re supervising?” 

Isen looked at him expectantly, as if waiting for him to go on. When he didn’t, Isen said, “I don’t see your point. Isn’t that the entire purpose of the Safe House?”

Blyke leaned forward from his spot on the bed. “But let’s just say that conflict does start, then how do we go about mediating it?”

“By telling them to stop, obviously. They’re going to listen to us.”

“But why?”

“Because we're the leaders?”

“ _But why?_ ”

Isen looked nervous, being put on the spot like that. “I don’t know, because we outrank them?” 

“Exactly. They listen to us because they know we can beat them to a pulp. Isn’t that going against its entire purpose?”

Isen started. “Blyke, what’s gotten into you? They are there because they also want to see change in the school. They know exactly what they’re getting into.” 

Blyke was silent while Isen held his eyes. “Look, you can’t be so cynical. This is so unlike you, did something happen?”

Blyke broke the eye contact. “Nothing happened.”

“Did John say something?”

Blyke didn't answer. 

“I thought you told me that you didn’t end up confronting him last night, what the hell!”

“It was nothing, we just spoke for a bit and—”

“You guys _spoke_?”

“Yeah, we did,” Blyke said with an indignant look.

“And he didn’t attack you, or try to kill you or something?” Isen pressed. 

“No.”

“I call bullshit. I’m texting Remi everything, and she’s going to come right over here and talk some sense into you.”

“Wait, that’s not necessary—”

“Too late, she’s already on her way.”

Isen was true to his words. In just a few minutes, there was a knock and then the door swung open, not waiting for an answer. There Remi stood, frazzled in a baggy hoodie and her bow crooked in her hair. 

“Blyke, is what Isen said true?”

Blyke was silent. 

“What do you think is wrong with the Safe House?”

“Didn’t Isen already tell you?” She looked disappointed, as though she was hoping to hear something better. That in itself, hurt Blyke. 

“I want to hear it from you, first.”

Blyke looked at his nails. He knew Remi truly had good intentions. He had to phrase his thoughts as carefully as possible. 

“I’m just worried that we’re going about the wrong way concerning the Safe House. I feel like the fact that us higher-tiers are supervising reinforces the message that we have serious power imbalance problems.”

Remi looked thoughtful, but steered the conversation to an even less comfortable direction. “Is it true that you spoke with John?”

Blyke looked away. His silence was telling. 

“And he didn’t hurt you?”

“No.”

Remi looked skeptical, but decided to let it go. “That’s really impressive, Blyke. It’s really hard to make John talk these days — you know how my attempt before our fight went. I know this is something Arlo would like to hear, are you going to tell him?”

“I’m not reporting anything to him.”

“Makes sense,” Isen said. "If John finds out that Arlo’s trying to meddle again, well — let’s just pray he doesn’t. No one deserves that kind of wrath."

“John has some interesting ideas,” Remi began. “But, he’s probably not suggesting any solutions, right?” She looked at Blyke for an answer, and when he shook his head she continued. “I think the Safe House is a good start. Is it perfect? Of course not, but we have to start from somewhere. We can’t just scrap the idea, we have to stick by it.”

“But we can’t just do nothing when we see a flaw in our plan!” Blyke said.

“Well, what do you think we should do then?” Remi asked patiently. 

“I don’t know. But what I do know is that people need to be taking action because they truly want to — not because they feel pressured by us or their friends.”

A look of sadness fell upon Remi’s face. She contemplated her next words for a while, and took a deep breath. Blyke and Isen stayed silent, knowing that whatever her next words were, they would be important and not easy to say. 

“I think — I think that, maybe that’s why Rei’s system didn’t work out.” She paused, before continuing. “He _made_ high-tiers act nice, but they weren’t doing it because they truly meant it. And that sort of change at the end of the day is just — well, it's superficial.”

“So we have to make people want change on their own then? How do we accomplish that?” Isen asked. 

“I have no idea,” Remi said, looking distraught. 

“Rei – his intentions were good, Remi,” said Isen. 

By now, she was looking down, her bangs obscuring her eyes. Her fists were clenched at her sides. “Maybe they were, but they weren’t enough. I wish he left behind a stronger legacy, that some of his work was still left in this school—”

Blyke cut her off. “Remi, he did so much more than most people would have. He recognized the issue without having some rampaging high-tier beat up all the Royals. He took action even when things were comfortable for him. I think that really sets him apart. Maybe his actions weren’t the most effective, but they were something — you could say that they were the beginning of the end. The fact that he even tried, well — that says a lot about him. I’m sure a lot of low-tiers remember him fondly.”

“Blyke…”

“Here’s what we'll do. You were right, I got too negative. The Safe House is better than nothing. If it helps even one student feel safer, more comfortable at school, then it’s worth it to continue. But, we need to be aware of its flaws. Try to think of what else we could do.” 

“Doesn’t this sound too ambitious though?” Isen said. Remi and Blyke looked at him, unsure.

“It’s just that, we’re trying to change a core societal view from a random high school? Sounds more appropriate for a large scale campaign, rather than just a couple of students starting a club.”

“You’re right, Isen,” Remi said. “But we have to start from somewhere. If everyone thought this way, then no progress would ever be made. Maybe that’s one of the reasons why our society is so stagnant.” 

“Plus,” Blyke added, “it’s not a ‘random high school.’ It’s Wellston. Top ranked in the country — we have some serious influence.” 

“And all this came from John’s idea?” Isen asked.

“A little. He kind of nudged me in the right direction. For someone so angry, he sure has a lot of thoughts.”

“He’s probably so angry _because_ he thinks too much,” Isen said. 

Remi and Blyke couldn’t dispute that. 

* * *

The rest of the day was spent in anticipation. Anxious, to see how John would act around him, after the events of the previous night. Terrified (and excited) of what was to come when Blyke left campus that very night. This combination of nerves and excitement blurred together, until Blyke could no longer tell them apart. Was he excited to see John? Or was he dreading it? His shaking hands could mean either. 

When he entered his dorm room near curfew — but slightly earlier than usual, since usually he arrived right on the dot — he was disappointed to see that John was back to completely ignoring him. This silence left Blyke unsure, since it was ambiguous. Silence could mean many things, ranging from thoughtful contemplation to planning where to hide Blyke’s body. But perhaps, this wasn’t the worst case scenario — nothing was getting physical. Maybe it was true that no news is good news. 

Eventually, the lights were turned off and both of them went to bed — or at least, pretended to for appearance’s sake. 

And now it was finally the time. Byke was going to give this vigilante thing one more go because action had to be taken and clearly the Safe House wasn’t enough. 

He would be more careful this time, go to a smaller, less conspicuous town. Come quickly and leave even faster. As usual, he kept his plans quiet from everyone. No need to involve others in something so sketchy, so dodgy — _so dangerous._

Except he forgot one small detail — his roommate doesn’t fucking sleep. 

And so Blyke waited and waited, pretending to be asleep when in reality waiting to hear some sign that John was unconscious. To some extent, Blyke felt guilty that he wanted to hear John’s nightmares for once, but it couldn’t be helped. This had to be done. 

Hours passed, but John’s phone light remained on, signalling that John was clearly still awake. Blyke tried to not fall asleep, but as dawn approached his fatigue took over and he passed out. 

* * *

The next day, due to his lack of sleep and failure to proceed with his plan, Blyke was once again in a foul mood. As usual, Arlo would approach him every few days for an update on the situation. 

“Any news with John?” Arlo would ask Blyke. 

“No, we just pretend that the other doesn’t exist,” Blyke would say. 

Arlo would then give him this look that showed he wasn’t impressed, but wouldn’t press any further than saying, “I know this is intimidating, but you’re in a unique position. It’s for the best.” 

And on it would go, a different variant of the same conversation occurring every few days. Blyke sometimes wondered if Arlo would ever lose his patience, but he was nothing if not composed and dignified, even when in the wrong. 

The next night, Blyke decided to postpone his plans to escape to the city, since he concluded that being sleep deprived to his current extent was dangerous. He prayed that he would be more lucky the next night. 

For once, his prayers were answered. Two days have passed, and John was asleep, looking uncomfortable, but his nightmares seemed milder than usual. Blyke slipped out of his bed as quietly as he could and put on his version of a costume — gray sweatshirt, gray sweatpants and a black facemask. He drew his hood on, in an attempt to cover his bright red hair. With one last glance at John in his room, he shut the door as quietly as possible and made his way outside. 

Finally, he was free.

* * *

John was livid. He knew it was a mistake to let his guard down with his roommate, but after the other day’s conversation he did, ever so slightly. Because for a moment Blyke didn’t seem to be afraid of him – if anything he seemed to be afraid _for_ him. But once again he was wrong; his mistake would be his undoing, unforgiving and final. How could he keep on putting his faith in others when everyone always betrayed him in the end? But really, why was he so surprised? This was the same guy that blasted a beam in his face. He really did feel like the world's biggest fool.

Blyke had underestimated just how much of a light sleeper John was these days. The slightest sound or change in aura could awaken him. The moment he started changing clothes, John was up, although he didn’t show it to Blyke. No, he was going to follow him discreetly, and catch the whole lot of them, planning to overthrow him. And what came next, well… he didn’t want to think about it until he had no other choice in the moment. 

It was no different than in New Bostin, except here they weren’t even subtle. The Safe House posters on every corner in the school’s hallways continuously mocked him, making a sham out of his rule. At least Claire had the decency to keep it all a secret until the very last moment.

_Was he pretending this whole time that he’s changed, or is he just really oblivious?_

Not that it would matter, anyway. Whatever the intentions of Blyke and his group — presumably Remi, Isen, Arlo and… _her —_ whatever their intentions were, he couldn't care less because at the end of the day they were wrong. Malicious or misguided, what difference did it make? His reformation class with Keon was also framed to be with good intentions. Good to others, but never to John at the very least. To him, it was all the same shit. Hell, maybe his intentions in beating them half to death could also be considered good — it could cause him to get expelled and they could go back to their usual power trips as Royals.

_Monster._

Would tonight be any different?

He blinked away the memory of him and Claire, surrounded by unconscious bodies. Her biting her lip, uttering those words that would be replayed in his mind for years to come — although at the time he didn’t know any better. Once again, the rage from that moment flooded back into John, and all the power he put into his final blow for Claire, he now wanted to give to Blyke and everyone ten times stronger. It took all of his self control to not just attack Blyke right then and there. So he resigned himself back to silently trailing him, trying to block out his memories. 

As John followed Blyke outside, he wondered when and where the rest of the crowd would join him. And yet, to his surprise they eventually left campus. John began getting even more worried. Just what was the scale of this plan, that they had to meet outside of school grounds? 

The sky was pitch black, the moon nothing but a thin crescent in the sky. Traffic was minimal, the area they were currently passing rather secluded. A less powerful person would have felt uncomfortable being alone in such a setting, but there was only one thing on John's mind, slowlying eating away at his rational, more coherent thoughts. 

As he continued following Blyke, eventually suburbia turned into city, and lights became more frequent, and passerbys came in between them. Now it was easier for John — the noise made it so that he could be less cautious, and just focus on not losing him. Because wherever the secret meeting place was, that's where he will force Blyke to answer to him. 

By the time they started approaching the train station, John realized that he could no longer follow him into the same compartment without getting caught. It was now or never, and he came to terms with his change of plan. He increased his pace, closing the distance between them. Before he was able to get close enough, Blyke whipped his head towards him, sensing someone was approaching him. Immediately Blyke paled, a cross between pure horror and complete bewilderment flashing in his eyes. He stopped walking, and waited for John to approach. 

"Just where do you think you're going?" John asked quietly, when he was only a few feet away from Blyke. 

"Why is that any of your business?" 

And again, no one was taking John seriously. No matter if he was at the top or the bottom, he was never truly respected. He grabbed Blyke by the shoulder. 

"Shut the fuck up and tell me what you're planning."

“What?”

John gave him a crazed look. The fact that Blyke was playing dumb, even when caught red-handed enraged him on a fundamental level. The only thing stopping him from attacking in the middle of the station was the fact that he was on thin ice with everyone from the principal to the Authorities. 

“Don’t you fucking lie to me, tell me where you’re going to meet everyone!” John hissed. Blyke’s eyes darted from side to side before motioning John to follow him to a corner.

“Don’t you fucking tell me what to do!”

Blyke kept walking. “People are beginning to look,” he said in a subdued voice.

Reluctantly, John followed, since he didn’t want others to interfere with what was about to happen. He was not sure if he had it in him to hold himself back if other’s couldn’t mind their own business. Once in the corner, a pillar blocking them from view from the few people in a station at this late hour, John grabbed Blyke by the collar.

“Tell me where you’re going,” he growled. 

“To the city, over to… East End.”

“Why?”

“To visit family.” 

Immediately, John could tell that Blyke was lying. He answered too quickly, as though he was assuring himself, and not just John that it was the truth. Not to mention, the neighbourhood mentioned was a well known low-tier neighbourhood. It was unlikely that Blyke had family there, and why would he even be visiting them in the middle of the night? Just how stupid did he think John was?

“You’re a liar, just like the rest of them. Just a few nights ago you were so desperate to prove to me that you’ve changed, but you’re still the same two-faced piece of shit that shot a beam at my head all those weeks ago.”

Because really, just how much could a person change within a few weeks?

 _A lot, under the right circumstances,_ John thought while remembering Keon. Because at the end of the day, in this society it was completely possible to force your will upon another person, if you were powerful enough. John did that as King in New Bostin, and then Keon did the same to him, and then Arlo, and now John was doing the same, back to square one because for all the change he went through, he still remained the same person—

It was all just one cruel cycle. And he was too tired to break it.

“Tell me what your plan is or I’ll beat it out of you! You think you can gather your friends in secret and overthrow me, well then try your best. The more of you, the easier it is for me! The fact that you need to hide away from the school while you do your underhanded schemes — well it just shows what cowards you fucking trash really are! Take me to the place and I’ll show you what I think of you scum. Why wait until school starts, just get it over with tonight.”

John watched Blyke mentally go over all his options — he could practically hear the gears in his head turning — but really, he knew there was only one possible outcome. Why bother delaying the inevitable?

Blyke answered quietly. “There is no plan against you, John. This isn’t what it looks like—”

Ah, so he chose the stupid option.

“You’re still lying? Maybe this time I should actually bash your head in so hard you’ll be out of commission for a month—”

“I’m not lying!”

“Then what?”

Blyke stayed silent. Another wave of disappointment crashed over John, not the first of that night.

“I knew it.”

“No, it’s not that — I swear, I’m not lying but I just can’t say it here. It’s too dangerous. Let’s go somewhere more private and I’ll tell you there—”

“No. That’s not my problem. You fess up right here, right now.”

Now Blyke looked more afraid than John had ever seen him before, which was saying something. But still, John did not relent. He held Blyke’s gaze, tightening his grip on his collar, waiting for an explanation. Why he was being so lenient, he did not know. Perhaps he didn’t want to start a commotion in public. Or maybe, he was tired of seeing the worst in everyone. Or even worse, maybe it was his memory of Adrion. The one person who he regretted beating. One of the only people who was honest with him, and yet he chose to believe in Claire over him, and now he couldn’t even bring himself to hate him for calling the Authorities on him. Perhaps he was hopeful that this night there was a tiny chance that Blyke was an Adrion rather than a Claire. Whatever it was, it gave John enough leniency to come at least this far without completely losing his cool. 

“Listen… For a while, even when I was living with Isen, I have been sneaking out to towns nearby.” John’s grip on him only tightened in response. “And well, it’s because after you beat me and the rest of the Royals, well I wanted to get stronger, as fast as possible, but the thing is, it’s hard to do these things quickly and officially so—”

“Just get on with it!”

“Well so maybe I decided to experiment with being a vigilante for a little while…”

John said nothing.

“Well, first it was to get stronger, but then I realized just how messed up things were with low-tiers, so now I can’t deny that there’s some personal investment to it. But yeah, when you really think of it, I guess my original intentions were so that one day I could defeat you, so I guess your theory wasn’t that far off to begin with.”

Did Blyke always ramble this much? John couldn’t dwell on that for too long though, because immediately after his speech, he burst out in a humourless laugh.

“Oh my God. You are such a fucking idiot.”

“What?”

“You’re actually going to get yourself killed for some useless people, people who are just as shitty as the rest of us. This is actually hilarious.”

Blyke bristled. “Of course you’d find it funny. You don’t give a shit about anyone but yourself!”

“Wrong.” John didn’t care much for himself, either. “I just find it funny that someone as weak as you would do this. Give it a week, and I’ll have the dorm to myself once again.”

“I’m not weak, I’m almost a high-tier.”

“Maybe you’re not as weak compared to most people. But would I bet on my life using only your ability? Don’t make me laugh any harder, I might actually start crying.”

“Well that’s why I’m doing this, it’s to get stronger—”

“I thought you said that now it’s about helping low-tiers. Or are you still using them as a tool to better yourself?”

“No, well—”

“Or are you doing this so that you can convince yourself that you’re a better person now. That you aren't the same guy who shot a beam at a cripple’s face.”

“You attacked Remi when she was only trying to help you! As if you’d act any different if someone attacked someone so close to you.” It didn't go by John the fact that Blyke went out of his way not to mention Seraphina by name. 

“I was caught off guard. And even if I wasn’t, your reaction really wasn’t proportional to just a harmless shove.”

“Psht. Well now we both know just how harmless your shoves can be.”

“You see, you can’t even fess up. Whenever someone points out what’s wrong with you, you and your people just avoid and evade, or attack. You can confront literally anyone except for yourselves!”

Blyke opened his mouth as though to say something, but then held back. He paused for a few more moments. His next words were quiet. “You’re right, I’m sorry. What I did was wrong, and I’m trying to change.”

“You can’t change.”

“Well then what was the point of all that?”

John said nothing. When it became clear that he was done talking, Blyke began to leave. “Well, I better get going, I hope you don’t report me or something—”

John grabbed his wrist. “The fuck you think you’re going? If you die tonight, they’ll probably just blame it on me to make things easier. It would be pretty easy, since the both of us went missing from our dorm.”

“Let me go.”

“Do this on a different day.”

“Just leave me the fuck alone!”

“No.”

“Let me fucking do this! I _have_ to do this.”

John’s grip only tightened. “You can feed your ego another day. This is an order from your King.”

“I thought you hated the hierarchy.”

“I do, but there’s no escaping it.”

_And I learned that the hard way._

“Let’s go back,” John said. _To our room._

And so they went.

* * *

For the rest of the night, John could not sleep. How could he, when he realized just _what an idiot_ his roommate was. But still, an idiot was preferable to someone who was trying to overthrow him. The whole night, he thought about Blyke and his reasons for becoming a “superhero.” And for the most part, they were selfish motives. A stupid rationale. If he was going to get himself killed, he should at least do it for the right reasons. 

One benefit of having your father be an author was that you get what’s practically an unlimited supply of the same book — it’s just how the publishing industry worked. It was essentially free advertising, and one perk of never having many friends was that even after the book gets banned, you will still have quite a few extra copies lying around, hidden somewhere. And sure, John already managed to get one of his copies confiscated thanks to someone who will not be named, but it’s not like John needed so many copies anyway. And besides, his roommate was still somehow alive, even though he made it clear that this “nightly excursion” of his already happened multiple times. Maybe he wasn’t so stupid afterall.

In the morning, John lingered in the room even after Blyke left. He took out one of his hardcover novels, _A Game of Chairs_ — some fantasy epic that he couldn’t bother finishing — and slid the book jacket off. Then, he opened his closet and went into his underwear drawer, and moved aside all his boxers to reveal _the book._

Placing the fantasy book jacket on top, John looked out the window. 

_I better not regret this._

He put the copy of _UnOrdinary_ on Blyke’s pillow. Perhaps the mismatched covers will mean something to him. Hopefully he could take a hint and keep a secret. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Blyke, our sweet, reckless Blyke. To me, he is presented as the shounen main character archetype, so I have him act in what I consider to be in character for a shounen main character (to some extent). You know the type — reckless, idealistic, strong sense of justice, blah blah, etc, etc. So yeah, if you find him frustrating then blame the genre, not me. T_T Just kidding, blame me all you want — it’s cool. 
> 
> This was challenging to write, not gonna lie. It’s definitely a new turn for the story, but hey I realized that if I wanted things to develop, then I gotta make things happen. And this is the thing that’s happening, currently. (Wasn’t that eloquent?) Not sure how well this will be received since I know the Blyke superhero arc wasn't very popular, but hey, it was a fun experiment. And probably kind of necessary for the story.
> 
> On another note, five more chapters to go! I will try my best to make them as satisfying as possible. And the purpose of the story remains the same, so don’t worry!
> 
> Until next time :)
> 
> [Tumblr](https://magey88.tumblr.com/)


	6. Perspective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU AGAIN for all the wonderful reviews! I love knowing that you guys are also thinking of this story, and thinking of where our guys will end up. You guys are honestly so sweet, that I feel guilty when I take forever to update. I’m trying to get better though. :’)
> 
> Also, if they seem OOC here, the next chapter will do its best to explain it all away. So just try your best to enjoy it for now, haha. This one’s gonna be pretty dialogue heavy.

At first, Blyke wasn’t sure if the previous night was just a dream. But, as the day went on and his sleep deprivation became more and more apparent, it was clear that everything actually happened. Sneaking out, trying once again to play vigilante — only for John of all people, to not only follow him but also stop him? Just what was this strange parallel universe he entered?

Dream or no dream though, Blyke had no choice but to get on with his day. Eat, go to class, socialize, study — all necessities for him. Except of course, with the Safe House and everything, he was falling behind with his studies yet again. Maybe if he went to a _normal_ school, then he would have been able to focus more. No cripple-turned god-tiers, or god-tier turned-cripples causing conflict. But yet again, without all this conflict, just where would Blyke be as a person?

After his classes finished, Blyke went off to the library to study on his own. He stayed there for several hours, but by the time early evening approached he decided to make his way to his dorm — considerably earlier than usual. 

Entering the room, he noted that it was empty. Again, he wondered to himself where John could be. After all, he didn’t have any actual friends — Zeke and Cecile could hardly count. It was difficult to imagine John doing ordinary things such as going out, playing video games — whatever people did in their downtime. Did John even _do_ downtime? Seraphina probably had the answers to a lot of those questions, but Blyke didn’t have it in him for another heart-to-heart, since he seemed to be overwhelmed with those lately. 

With these thoughts in mind, Blyke was ready to collapse on his bed and just laze around on his phone, but then his eyes fell upon something resting on his pillow. A book titled _A Game of Chairs._ The cover jacket had some sort of dragon illustrated on it, which made Blyke really confused. He could not ever recall buying such a book, but maybe Isen had accidentally left it there? Except Isen didn’t read books. And why would he even visit this room, knowing John lives here? 

Still, Blyke’s curiosity had been awakened. He picked up the book gingerly, and opened it to the first page. 

UnOrdinary

By W.H. Doe

_This book is dedicated to my son._

Wait a second. That didn’t match the title on the book jacket. Blyke was now getting irritated, he didn’t have time for all these puzzles and mind games, especially when he had so little sleep. But then a thought crossed his mind, and immediately, he slid off the jacket of the book, only to reveal its true cover — a plain red hardback, with no design whatsoever, except for the title and author’s name: _UnOrdinary._ By W.H. Doe.

Why did that name sound somewhat familiar? 

As usual when in doubt, Blyke resorted to the internet, because the internet knew everything. But as he read through the search results for _UnOrdinary,_ he felt his heart drop. This book was banned. Those found in possession would have to answer to the Authorities. Blyke tossed the book back onto his bed, as though it was burning him. There was more. Apparently, the book was also what has caused the recent flux of high-tiers playing superhero. In fact, that was why the book was forbidden — because it was supposedly convincing high-tiers to risk their lives, and get killed by Ember. So really, according to all these articles Blyke sped through, it was banned for _society’s own good._

And that’s when Blyke knew that he had to read it.

* * *

The book was interesting, to say the least. In a world filled with cripples, only one person had an ability. But instead of imposing his will onto others, he helped everyone, making the world a better place. Not only that, but the cripples were also portrayed as people who were able to and actually did contribute to society. 

At least, that was how far Blyke got into reading the book before his eyes needed a break. But still, even as he rested on his bed, with his eyes closed, he thought about _UnOrdinary,_ and tried to make predictions about the ending.

_I think it’s painting something too good to be true. The book will end with the sole ability user eventually getting corrupted, and then who knows what will happen._

Why did Blyke think this? Because everyone knew that a good story needed conflict. That would probably be the most realistic ending, anyway. Except, if Blyke was right, then why would the book inspire people to become vigilantes, with such an underwhelming ending? 

And more importantly: why did he even have this book in the first place?

As Blyke was mulling over these thoughts, he heard the door open. He opened his eyes partially, to see John stride into the room, and immediately head for the shower without acknowledging him. 

And then it hit him. Did _John_ leave this for him? Was this a dream? But the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. It would align with their confrontation from the previous night, that was for sure. But would that mean that John wanted Blyke to continue being a vigilante? And how did John even get his hands on an illegal book? Knowing the contents of it, it was laughable imagining John reading it and seriously considering its message. But still, he was probably the one who left it there. Was it especially for him, or did he accidentally leave it there?

_Do you even hear yourself think? Who the hell ‘accidentally’ leaves their books lying around on someone else’s bed?_

So he wanted Blyke to read it. 

But why?

With perfect timing, John stepped out of the shower. Deciding that at this point, he might as well be upfront, he wasted no time in confronting John. 

“Is this your book?” Blyke asked, holding the book up towards him.

“Yes?”

“Did you place it on my bed?”

“Who else would, you dumbass.”

Who was this imposter and what did they do with John?

“Um… Why did you do it?”

“So that you would read it.”

This was going nowhere.

“But _why_ do you want me to read it? What the hell, John? This is a banned book, do you know much trouble I — no, _we_ can get for this?”

“Then don’t be an idiot and get caught in possession. Just leave it in this room and don’t blab to your friends about it.”

“But why me?!”

“I’m assuming you did enough research to know that this book caused a lot of powerful people to turn into vigilantes. And we all know that they’re dying left and right on the streets. I was hoping that maybe this book would also inspire you some more, and speed up the process of you leaving me alone for good.”

What did Blyke do to deserve this? He was on the verge of flinging the book at John’s face out of frustration — inevitably sealing his death sentence — but then it crossed his mind. For all the shit John said to him, Blyke began to notice that his actions spoke louder than words. If he was angry, someone got hit. If he was less angry, then the person would just get insulted. Right now, John was avoiding physical violence — even though they were in their dorm, John had already shown that he had no problem breaking that rule, and Blyke had proved that he was somewhat of a pushover and let him get away with it. Not only that, but he was actively giving him a gift? Or at least a loan — it wasn’t very clear at the moment. 

The point was, John did nothing more than call him a dumbass and wish him to die today. A huge improvement from getting hospitalized. So maybe he didn't really mean what he said just now? Blyke wasn't completely sure, but he decided to believe that, for the sake of his own sanity.

“I already read more than half of it.”

“Oh, really?” John said slowly. Blyke vigorously nodded in response.

“So, what did you think of it so far?”

Blyke paused, because at the back of his mind he knew that his answer would be critical. He decided to be honest. “Well, I’m assuming the main guy is going to become all evil since he’s so powerful.”

John raised his eyebrows. “That’s definitely a first.”

“You know others who read this book?”

“Why do you think he’s going to become evil?”

Ah, so he was evading his question. Interesting.

“Because otherwise, this book would be just a utopia, and who would want to read about that? Sure, they’re nice in real life, but when I’m reading a story I want some conflict. Everybody just being happy all the time doesn’t make for a very captivating narrative.”

“So you think powerful people helping weak people is utopic?”

“Well… I guess, but not really? I was thinking more along the lines of everyone using their strengths to bring out the best in others. I mean, even the cripples in the book are portrayed as useful and having value to society. I think that’s pretty much ideal.”

John stayed silent, seeming as though he was actually considering Blyke’s words.

“Enough about me. You’re the one who owns this book, so you must’ve read it at some point. What did _you_ think?”

“It’s some well-written fiction, but it’s too feel-good for me. Seems to be just another form of escapism.”

Did John just give away the ending? Blyke wanted to be annoyed, but he was more concerned with other things at the moment.

“Then why are you giving it to me?”

“I already told you why. Some people seem to read too much into it, and I thought you might be one of them.” 

Blyke sighed, thinking that the conversation was finally over. But then a thought crossed his mind. “How do you even have this book?”

John didn’t even blink. “It was a gift from someone.”

_What? There are people who give gifts to John?_

“Who gave it to you? Do they go to this school, or was it from your parents—”

“Look, I’m going to bed so just leave me alone.”

Blyke wanted to pull his hair out. Why did John have to be so difficult?

“Not like you’re gonna fall asleep anyway,” Blyke muttered.

John whipped his head back at Blyke. “Say that again,” he hissed.

Blyke gulped.

“Ah, look man. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. My older sister also has insomnia, usually when she’s on her period…” Blake trailed off, before realizing he was digging his own grave. 

“I guess being a high-tier doesn’t save you from being an idiot,” John said before turning off his light and crawling into bed, facing away from Blyke.

In a way, Blyke was relieved that the conversation ended so abruptly. He felt as though one wrong word would undo all the unspoken progress him and John have made over the weeks. They could actually hold a conversation, somewhat. Even though John seemed to play off as indifferent to the book, Blyke could tell it was important to him. Because really, who would hide an illegal book in their possession when they weren't somehow emotionally invested in it? 

He decided maybe it was time for him to go to bed as well. Reading could be exhausting, that and he barely slept the night before. While he tried to fall asleep, he kept on thinking of _UnOrdinary._

_In a world full of cripples, there was only one god-tier._

_Everyone has value._

_Just another form of escapism._

_It was a gift from someone._

_This book is dedicated to my son._

His last thoughts before dozing off were about what kind of a person would write such a book.

* * *

The next day, as soon as Blyke finished his classes he went back to his dorm room to finish the book. Sure, John may have hinted that his prediction was off, and maybe the book wasn’t perfect — it got a little dull, and John made a good point with the endless optimism included within its pages — but the message was uplifting. Inspiring, even. He could see why it made high-tiers decide to wear a mask and risk their lives for others. In fact, Blyke felt so tempted to discuss the book with someone else. He could imagine Remi’s excitement (this book was practically written for her) or Isen’s harsh criticism, but Blyke felt that with enough peer pressure from him and Remi, he would also see the light eventually, and—

The book was illegal. 

Sure, he trusted his friends not to give him away, but John also trusted him. He didn’t want to break that trust by talking about it with others. He couldn’t exactly go on an internet forum either, since that was just calling the Authorities onto his doorstep, so that left him with only one other option: John. 

And that was how he found himself once again, on the verge of another conversation (or maybe a fight, because it was never very clear) with John. This time John arrived at their room earlier than the day before — it was still a little light outside. Blyke wasted no time in starting the conversation this time around.

“I finished the book.”

“And?”

“It went the utopic route.”

“So it did.”

Interesting, John seemed to be more placid than normal.

“You were right, it was really wishy-washy.”

“I know.”

“But I still liked it. It gave me a sense of hope.”

“What, made you feel important and special just because you’re a vigilante?”

Blyke glared at John. “No, it’s just nice knowing that enough people feel this way, and aren’t happy with the current state of affairs. That this book was able to get really popular and even impact lives. Makes me feel as though there’s still hope for improving society.”

“I used to feel that way, but now looking at that book just makes me feel sick.”

“So why did you give it to me?”

“Well, what’s the point in it just sitting in my closet, collecting dust?”

Blyke had no answer to that. Instead, he said: “You’re right though, now I want to go out and be a vigilante more than ever. But it’s so dangerous, and I was already nearly caught once, so I have to be extra careful—”

“Wait, say that again?”

“I want to be a vigil—”

“No, the part about you nearly getting caught?”

“Oh, yeah… I was caught on camera the last time I actually went out, but they didn’t catch my face so—”

“Do you want to die or something?!”

“What?”

“Blyke, are you stupid or suicidual? You’re probably already on their hit list.”

“I know, but I’m getting stronger, and I have to do something. I thought about what you said — everything. And I agree with you that the Safe House isn’t ideal, but I just have no idea what else to do. This is the best I can offer for now. I got stronger, too. I think I’ll be fine as long as I keep discreet—”

“Do you even hear yourself talk? I would've never given you the book if I knew you were this close to your deathbed anyway, what the hell?”

Blyke could not tell if John was excited or anxious about this. 

“Look, I think I’ll be fine.”

“When do you plan on going next?”

“I don’t know yet. Why, you want to follow me again?”

“Fuck no, I just need to know when to wear headphones to bed so that you don’t wake me up again.”

“I’ll be sure to give you a fair forewarning then.”

John’s glare only intensified in response. While Blyke could sense that the conversation was over, he wasn’t ready yet to finish talking. He wasn’t sure why exactly, because he wasn't a fan of being called an idiot every minute. He also didn't enjoy trying his best to not set John off, because talking to him was like trying to not set off a hidden landmine. But maybe John had a point and he really was an idiot.

“So, what do you like to do for fun?”

There was a moment of silence. And then: “What?”

“You know, stuff that you do to amuse yourself—”

“I know what fun means, what do you take me for? I just don’t do anything.”

“Nothing?”

“That’s what I just said you dipshit.”

“There has to be something. Even serial killers entertain themselves somehow.”

“Are you sure that’s the best comparison?”

Blyke thought about it. “I guess you aren’t _that_ bad,” he said, only to receive a smack from John in response. But it wasn’t particularly painful. 

“There’s nothing I like to do for fun.”

“Doubt it.”

“I’m serious!”

“Nothing? You mean you don’t enjoy beating me and my friends up into a pulp?”

John looked away. “Not really. But someone has to do it. It just happens, I don’t know...”

Blyke decided he wasn’t ready to breach that topic yet. Instead, he steered the conversation back onto safer waters.

“But there has to be something you enjoy. For example, I really like reading battle-shounen manga. You know, the ones with super powerful protagonists that get even more powerful with the power of friendship, and with insanely large casts. I can read that same story over and over again. I also like hanging out with Remi and Isen, obviously. We sometimes even play basketball together, but eventually we start ignoring the rules and the court becomes a full out warzone.”

“Thanks for the life story.”

“I’m trying to ease you into opening up, okay? Now it’s your turn.”

“And I already said—”

“Enough with the bullshit. Everyone has hobbies, even crazy people like yourself.”

“First of all, fuck you. And second, I’m being honest. I don’t really enjoy anything these days.”

“Nothing?”

“That’s what I keep on telling you. Anything that I used to find fun, well, now it just doesn’t hold my interest. I honestly couldn’t care less about it.”

That was slightly concerning. However, it wasn’t his job to psychoanalyze him. And finally, Blyke was making some progress. His eyes glinted.

“So what did you used to like?”

“If I answer, will you leave me alone?”

Blyke said nothing.

“Fine, okay. I liked playing cards, video games, working out, bubble tea—”

Blyke snorted.

“Are you laughing at me?”

“No, no. I’m just laughing at what you said.”

“What the hell is the difference?”

“I’m sorry, I’m not trying to offend you or anything, it’s just — I don’t know. Bubble tea, really? Doesn’t fit the whole ‘prospective school shooter’ image you’ve got going for yourself.”

“That’s not funny.”

“I know, but I’ve been hanging out with Isen for years now. His insensitivity rubbed off on me. And as if you’re one to talk.”

John still didn’t look amused. He kept on looking at Blyke with his arms crossed. 

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry again. So you like cards?”

“I already told you that, are you just gonna repeat everything I say?”

Again, Blyke ignored him. He found that the best way to make progress with John was that unless he was making a speech about the hierarchy and current state of society, to rather just, ignore him and move on. Really, a lot of it was just unnecessary snark. 

“Wanna play rank?”

“The fuck is rank?”

“You don’t know what rank is? And you call yourself a fan of cards?”

John only glared at him in response, but Blyke ignored him before continuing.

“It’s really easy to play. Basically, all you do is split the deck in half, and each of us gets one part. You can’t look at your cards. Just put the deck so that the cards are piled up facing down, and at the same time both players take the top-most card from their mini deck and reveal it. Whoever has the higher card gets to keep both cards. The card hierarchy is the same as in real life — hence why it’s called rank. Oh and if you have the same cards, then you do a rank battle, where you—”

“Oh, I know it. That's the game for the braindead. But I always called it war, not rank. What kind of a dumb name is rank, anyway?”

“Excuse me, did you not hear a word I just said? The name is _symbolic,_ thank you very much.”

“So is war. Think of it, the cards are literally at war with each other. War! The losing card becomes a POW — it’s very dark when you actually think about it. But I still stand by the fact that the game is boring and stupid.”

“I loved playing this when I was a kid!”

John smirked. “Yeah, a _kid._ I also liked playing it with my dad when I was five years old. There’s absolutely no strategy to war—”

“You mean rank.”

“—There’s absolutely no strategy to war, it’s all just a matter of luck. Completely random. Ever play poker? Now that takes some real skill.”

“No, but I know enough about it that Isen would beat you in it.”

John looked offended. “The rat stands no chance.”

“Bruh. His ability is to literally be perceptive. He will know all your tells and when you’re lying.”

“I’ll just copy him, then.”

There was no arguing with John. Just how stubborn was he?

“Ah, but being sneaky is second nature to him. It comes to him automatically, while for you it’s going to be a conscious decision. And that, will be your downfall.”

“You underestimate me. If I ever drop out of high school, I can just become a professional poker player.”

“You can make a living off of poker?”

“If you’re good enough, which I am.”

“Fine, John. Since you’re such a master, then save me the embarrassment of defeat and just play _rank_ with me.”

“Sure, I’ll play a round of _war._ ”

Inwardly, Blyke cheered for himself. Was this what making progress felt like? He wanted to smile at John, showing he was glad that he agreed, but instead all he said was: “Were you always this annoying?”

“No comment.”

They both made their way to the floor, where they sat down awkwardly. But first, John went up to his night table and opened his drawer, taking out an old, battered deck of cards, which had definitely seen many games over the years. John was not lying about being a fan. He flung it on the floor in between them, and Blyke took the deck, and tried his best to shuffle the cards using a fancy shuffling technique he once saw Isen do. When he ended up dropping the cards all over the floor, John picked them up for him.

“Let me do it. I’ll show you how it’s done, since clearly you have no skill,” John said with a glint in his eye. “Which makes sense, since such a simple game is able to keep you mentally stimulated.”

He dealt the cards, and each of them had half the deck. It was then that Blyke's eyes fell onto two cards sitting off to the side of the floor. 

“Hey, I think we forgot to deal in the Jokers.”

“No, you’re not supposed to play with Jokers in war.”

“Well you are, in rank.”

“There’s no such thing as rank—”

“Come on, why'd you put them away?” Blyke asked while reaching towards the two missing cards. Blyke was used to playing with the two Jokers – which would be able to outrank any card. It made the game more exciting, and could really turn the tables. Whoever had both Jokers would be the inevitable winner. 

John grabbed the two cards first. “It doesn’t matter, the Joker makes the game useless. If both of us have one Joker, then the game will just go on and on forever. I’d go as far as to say that it’s corrupting the entire spirit of the game.”

“No, it spices things up. How can you play war without the all powerful trump card? Do you not know how satisfying it is when your deck is constantly shrinking, you’re on your way to losing, but then you play your Joker card and win an Ace or a King? It’s utter bliss. If anything, it finishes the game.”

“It’s a useless card. No, even worse, it’s counterproductive. It disrupts what the game was actually supposed to be. And why are you so passionate about it anyway? Why do you have such strong opinions about such a useless game?”

“Why don’t you, the prospective professional poker player?”

“That alliteration made me want to send you to the infirmary again.”

“You know what, let’s just do things your way then. No Jokers this round.”

John sighed. “You know, I’m not actually gonna beat you for disagreeing with me, right? At least, not here. And not today.”

“That’s reassuring. But really, I just want to start the game already. Next time we play, we’ll do it my way instead,” Blyke said everything while maintaining eye contact with John. 

“No, let’s deal the Jokers in, just to show you how lame the game gets with them.”

John shuffled the cards expertly, and within a matter of seconds, all cards were dealt. Blykes eyes widened. John wasn’t kidding about playing cards a lot. 

“Just so you know. I still don’t like you. I’m just really fucking bored,” said John.

“That was literally my entire friendship with Isen in our freshmen year.”

“Except we aren’t friends. I’m choosing to strategically tolerate you, so that I have something to occupy my time with.”

“And I’m tolerating your strategic tolerance. Whatever that means.”

And with that, they began the game.

Queen beat two. Ten beat six. Four taken by Jack. Joker beats King. Blyke was on his way to winning. And so the game went on, John’s deck shrinking considerably.

“Ha, well why don’t you look at that. Our supposed card expert is losing.”

“I already told you that this game completely relies on luck—”

“I couldn’t hear that over you losing.”

“Fuck you,” John said. It seemed that he was a sore loser even in cards. 

The game went on. Since it really was somewhat of a mindless game, Blyke decided to continue the conversation with John. “So, does it stress you out, to keep a copy of _UnOrdinary_ in your room?”

“No, why would it?”

“What if you get caught?”

“Been there, done that.”

“What?” Was anyone even safe these days? Blyke started to feel sick to his stomach. 

“Don’t worry about it, clearly everything turned out okay. They don't know about my other copies.”

Blyke wanted to scream. There was so much to unpack with that statement. “How were you caught? _What other copies?_ The fuck, man? How are you still even here?”

John actually snorted at that. “Well, that says something, coming from you.” Blyke rolled his eyes, but John continued, “You see, it wasn’t my fault I got caught. I made the mistake of loaning one of my copies to someone else, and they happened to get caught, which obviously came back to me eventually.”

 _Seraphina._ The unspoken name hung in the air thickly, once again creating a tension which before that was finally seeming to ebb away. And really, with that statement a lot of things were beginning now to fall into place. This was probably why she was gone from school for all those weeks. But again, how was John still here? And why did he have so many copies lying around? Was he some sort of ultra-fan? 

“So, it’s not like you’re stuck with just discussing the book with me. Because let me tell you, I can handle people only in small doses these days.”

Did John just imply that he should go talk to Seraphina? The fact that he could even allude to her without losing it was — well, Blyke didn’t know what to think, but he knew it was good. 

Blyke revealed his next card — a King. Nice. He was already in possession of over two thirds of the deck, so he was probably going to win—

“Oh why you look at that,” John said, with a slight smile, his eyes narrowed. Blyke looked down only to see a black Joker facing him. 

“Maybe you were right, having a Joker isn’t that bad after all—”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I still have the other Joker.”

“I’ll just win it in a rank battle then.”

“So you do admit it’s called rank!”

“Doesn’t matter what you call it, what matters is that I’m winning and you’re losing.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

They played silently for a few more minutes. John was steadily regaining his cards. Blyke wanted to ask, but he wasn’t sure if he should. But he was really curious.

_To hell with it._

“So, what happened after you got caught? And why do you have multiple copies of it?”

“They called me in for questioning. A lady with a lie-detection ability asked some questions, mostly whether I wanted to become a superhero. I said no. They let me go.”

“That’s it?” For some reason, Blyke felt as though John was leaving some things out. But it made sense — he didn’t know Blyke enough to trust him with anything. The fact that he said as much as he already did — no, the mere fact that he shared his copy of _UnOrdinary,_ was impressive enough. So he decided not to press any further.

“As for the multiple copies, the only reason why I have so many is because my dad was the one who wrote the book. So the publisher gave him tons of copies, for self-promotion, you know—”

“Wait, what the fuck? You dad wrote that?” 

“Yes.”

“Is he in prison now?” Blyke didn’t realize what he said until it was too late. Sometimes tact escaped people at the worst of times.

“No, the fuck is your problem? He’s perfectly fine, as far as I know. His publisher protected him, I think.”

_Just how ambiguous can one person be?_

“But wait—” Blyke started, getting up from the floor to reach for the book still on his bed. He looked at the cover. “By… W.H. Doe. That’s your dad? Ah shit, I can’t believe I forgot your last name.”

“Yeah, didn’t you people go looking through my files? How could you forget, it’s literally one syllable.”

“Look, I’m sorry, but it just didn’t cross my mind when I realized that I was in possession of a banned book — wait a second.” Hastily, Blyke opened the book, flipping to the title page.

“ _This book is dedicated to my son._ He wrote this for _you_?”

John looked away, scratching the back of his head. Was he embarrassed? Now Blyke was freaking out.

“Yeah.”

“Wow, your dad must be really progressive. A high-tier writing this is—”

“My dad’s a cripple.”

Blyke flinched. 

“Oh… Sorry for assuming. It’s just that, well — you…” he gestured to all of John. 

“Me.”

So it seemed that Blyke stumbled across another deadend. But really, now Blyke couldn’t stop wondering. How did a cripple father produce someone that powerful? Was his mom some sort of legendary powerhouse? Was he adopted? Clearly though, John wasn’t in the mood for talking about this. 

“So your dad wrote it for you? That’s kind of sweet, actually.”

John looked at Blyke, with something strange in his eyes. “I guess you could say that. The truth is, he wrote it for me after I left New Bostin — don’t pretend to look confused, I know you know I was expelled. But yeah, I was in a really bad place, so that book was supposed to help me not hate the world, and stuff.”

“Did it work?”

“Do you think it did?”

Blyke paused, truly considering his words. “I can only speak for myself, but yeah, I feel more hopeful.”

“At least there’s that,” John said, his eyes dropping down. 

Blyke thought about everything John just admitted to. In a way, it felt like he implied that he felt remorse for what happened at New Bostin. To be honest, it was unclear. John was just an unclear person, all around. Saying one thing but then doing another — Blyke wasn’t sure if he was able to keep up with his mental gymnastics. He was just a student, not some professional psychologist. But still, what he did know was that concerning John, he knew practically nothing. 

And so once again, they played in silence. Everytime one of them would be closer to winning, one of their Jokers would make an appearance, thus turning the tide of the game. Eventually, the novelty of playing cards with John (he was still in shock that he agreed) wore off. 

“Wanna call it a night?” Blyke asked, breaking the silence.

“Might as well. Told you, the Joker just makes the game unplayable.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

* * *

Blyke went to bed that night, his head brimming with questions, but also with a sense of contentment. After putting away the cards, John once again reassured Blyke that they were under no circumstances friends. But that didn’t bother Blyke. To be honest, he wasn’t sure if he had it in him to befriend John after everything he did.

It was a nice feeling, though. To get along (somewhat) with his roommate. Or at least, not fear for his life. John was such a complicated person though. He could already imagine his father, warning him to stay away from someone like him. 

_These are the people who cause problems in our society._

Was this what it meant to be a late bloomer? Doomed to be rejected by both the weak and strong? Blyke couldn’t know for sure from his position, but he had a sneaking suspicion that his thoughts weren’t far from the truth. 

He didn’t want to befriend John, but he also didn’t want to _not_ befriend him. He couldn’t really explain the feeling, but what he did know for sure was that he wanted to understand John more. 

But even if John spoon-fed him all the answers, Blyke still wasn’t certain if he would understand everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You just caught a glimpse into my guilty pleasure: writing banter. This chapter was a break from all the angst I put you guys through, but assured that for every step forward there will also be ten steps back, because I am evil like that. 
> 
> I will be honest, this version of John is kind of based on that one time he said “Bitch, I live here.” So now I headcanon him as pretty snarky, when he’s not in rage or cripple mode. 
> 
> And again, sorry for taking forever to update!! Sometimes I tell myself that maybe I should just post shorter chapters more often, but then again, I am extremely particular where the chapter cuts off. If I decide that chapter 7 cuts off at event x, then I have to write everything that leads up to that event, which ends up being more than what I expected initially. Besides, long chapters are kind of fun, no? (please say yes.) But, what I lack in a consistent posting schedule I will make up with a reassurance that this story will see its end. Trust me. :)
> 
> [Tumblr](https://magey88.tumblr.com)


	7. Fake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was a quick update! Wowowowow

John woke up feeling refreshed. The sun’s beams were striking through the blinds, leaving the room in a peaceful, golden glow. Rolling out of bed, he glanced at the time, noticing that his alarm wasn’t due for another ten minutes. Looking to the side, he saw that the bed beside him was already empty and made. 

_Where is he? I thought we had plans for today._

John sighed in exasperation, and combed through his hair, before going to the bathroom and getting ready for the day. It was a Saturday, so there was no rush, although Blyke was expecting to meet him at some point. 

He walked through the halls on his way to breakfast, hands in his pockets, not thinking of anything in particular. That was, until he felt two hands grab his shoulders from behind, and a voice in his ear calling his name, causing him to almost jump.

“Did I scare you?” Sera asked, hands still on his shoulders, peering over it to see his reaction. John only smirked in response.

“Of course not, what do you take me for?”

“I take you for a liar, that’s what. I literally felt you flinch when I grabbed you—”

“Hah, but it’s your word against mine.”

This time it was Sera who smirked. “Maybe we should settle this once and for all? Rank battle between the King and Queen. The whole school wouldn’t miss it.”

John laughed easily in response. “It’s too early for this. Just take the victory and go play your video games in peace.”

“That was my plan all along. But I saw Blyke on my way back from breakfast, and he told me that if I see you to say that he’ll meet you in your room at eleven. Apparently he wants to go to the gym on his own, first.”

“Couldn’t even wait to go with me, huh?”

“You know him.”

“Hm, maybe I’ll surprise him there.”

They parted ways, and John continued to walk towards the cafeteria. It seemed to be a nice day. When John arrived, they were serving Wellston’s famous cake, for breakfast of all things. Pairing it with normal, healthy food, John felt only slightly guilty when helping himself to a slice. Making haste with his meal, he speedwalked back to his dormitory so that he could change into his gym clothes. 

Although everything seemed normal, there was a sinking feeling deep inside him — something was off, something was missing. And he didn’t know what that something was. John chose to ignore the feeling for the time being. 

When he entered the gym, his eyes immediately fell on Blyke, who was doing some arm curls by the window.

“Hey.”

Blyke yelped, giving John a glare once he gathered his senses again.

“What the hell, John? You can’t just startle a person while they’re lifting weights. I could've dropped it on my foot!”

“Or my foot.”

“I wish.”

They looked at each other, sharing amused looks.

“It’s so funny how seriously you’re taking this training. So focused, I’m kind of jealous.”

Blyle smiled. “Well, I trust your advice on these things.”

It was only last week that John agreed to help Blyke train his ability. That was the nice thing of having an aura-based ability — he could copy Blyke’s ability and help Blyke pinpoint and analyze various aspects of his energy beams. What he was missing out on, where his weaknesses were — John could help him reach his true potential. 

Of course, he was doing this for the small fee of Blyke being on cleaning duty for their room, for as long as their training sessions continued.

“You’ve been doing really well, lately. By optimizing your body you can also optimize the use of your ability. If you train at this rate, maybe you'll even be able to take Arlo’s place as Jack.”

“No way! I bet Arlo would freak.”

“Not if you beat him fairly, he won’t.”

Blyke frowned. “But his ability potential is probably higher than mine.”

“Oh, there’s no doubt about it. But he isn’t very creative with his barriers, so you still have a chance.”

“Holy shit,” Blyke said while putting his weights away. 

John shoved him playfully, causing Blyke to stumble. Blyke shoved back, but John remained still. 

“You still have so much to learn,” he said with a smile on his face.

“Okay, now you’re just bragging.”

“It’s well-deserved.”

They continued training in the gym in a companionable silence. Both had their own things to focus on, and working out always managed to relax John. After maybe twenty minutes, Blyke broke the silence.

“Hey, so Claire wants to go with us to the mall after we’re done training my ability.”

John looked up from his weights, but continued doing his reps. He tried not to roll his eyes.

“She already knows that I can’t stand the place.”

“Yeah, but she wants our company. You know, her friends?”

“Why can’t Adrion go with her instead? Or just you?”

“Well, the main purpose of the trip to buy Adrion a gift for his birthday, so it would be a problem to have him there as well—”  
  
“Oh, shit. I completely forgot about that.” Blyke was right, now John had to go. He already felt as though he was ignoring Adrion lately, despite him being John’s oldest friend.  
  
Blyke suddenly put down his gears, and started collecting his things. “I think I’m done here for today. Let’s meet at the main entrance in thirty minutes? Then we can go to the Turf War field so that we can train our abilities.”

“Yeah, see you then.”

Blyke raised his arm in farewell as he exited the gym, the door slamming shut after him. It was now only John in the room. Not minding the silence, he continued on with his sets, letting himself go into a trance. He wasn’t sure how much time exactly had passed when he heard the door open again, (although probably not too long, because Bklyke would find him if he was late) to reveal Adrion in the entryway. John flinched, startled at the sudden intrusion, but smiled when he saw who it was. 

“Hey,” he said while putting down his equipment. When Adrion didn’t respond back, John took a closer look at him, only to become concerned. To put it frankly, Adrion looked horrible. He was breathing heavily, a sheen of sweat surrounding his face and arms. He was hunched over, as though he ran all the way here. But what was most concerning was the look on his face — it was one of sheer panic. His eyes were wide and flashing — completely alert, but beyond that there was a hint of sadness within them, making something uncomfortable stir within John’s stomach. His face was set in a grimace.

John ran up to him, putting his hands on his shoulders. “Adrion! Are you okay? What happened? Did someone do this — because I swear I’ll—”

“John,” Adrion gasped. “John, you have to listen to me—” Adrion paused again, as though trying to figure out how to phrase his next thoughts.

“Just breathe,” John said with his hand on Adrion’s back. He waited for him to continue. 

“Don’t go to the Turf Wars field.”

“What?”

“John, you cannot go there. Blyke — he’s planning to betray you, I overheard him tell Claire.”  
  
“That’s not possible.”

“I swear, John! They’re all going to be there. Him, Claire, Seraphina, Arlo — they’re all just waiting to ambush you.”

“You’re — you’re lying! That can’t be true, I don’t know why you’re making this shit up but—”

“Have I ever lied to you before?”

John said nothing, but the sinking feeling in his stomach now returned tenfold.

“You absolutely cannot trust them. Especially not Blyke. The rest of them hurt you, and now you’re letting them do it all over again? You keep on making the same mistake over and over. You’re going to lose everything you have at this rate!”

“I have nothing to lose,” he said, trying to instill conviction into his voice.

“Tell that to Keon…”

John’s eyes flashed. “How do you know that name?”

Adrion only held his gaze. “I’m so sorry, John,” he said before pulling out his phone.

“Wait, what are you doing?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! But I have to call for help!”

“But I didn’t do anything this time!”

“Look around you, John.”

And then finally, John truly _looked._ And there everyone was, laying around them. Sera, Claire, Arlo, Remi, Blyke, and every other face he could possibly recall. 

“I’m so sorry.”

John grabbed him by the collar. “Why are you doing this to me? You can’t just — don’t make me do this again! _I can’t do this—_ ”

“There’s no other option—”

“Bullshit!”

Adrion shook in his grip.

“Don’t make me go back there! Adrion, _please_ _don’t call_ , you can’t—”

“It’s too late, I had no choice!”

And then John felt a hand on his shoulder coming from behind him, but this time it wasn’t the friendly grip from Sera, but one filled with malicious intent, and in that moment John knew that he was no longer safe, that something truly sinister was here for him — here to hurt him — and that was when he knew that everything was lost and—

He woke up gasping. 

Trying to calm his heart rate down, he took deep breaths, but no matter how much he focused, he could not stop shivering or shaking. He wanted to throw up, but couldn’t bring himself to leave his bed. The room was still dark, so he checked the time. Only four in the morning. Blyke was fast asleep in the bed beside him. 

As the moments ebbed by, slowly the memories of his dream trickled away, lost forever. But the sour feeling that came with the dream — the sense that everything was wrong and nothing will ever be okay — that stayed with him for the rest of the night, all the way until dawn, and past his alarm. 

He could just tell that it was going to be a horrible day.

* * *

He left the room before Blyke even woke up. To be honest, John was confused. So much had happened these past few days — following Blyke, giving him _UnOrdinary_ , playing cards — it was too much for him to process. The truth was, he still had no idea why he decided to humour Blyke so much the other night. Who even was Blyke? Just some random high-tier who suddenly developed a hero-complex once he realized life wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. When life was no longer convenient for him. 

But perhaps his actions from the other night boiled down to one fundamental fact: he was so fucking tired. To some people, hatred was second nature; it took no effort for them to remain in that state, to perpetually hold a disdain for the world. But for John, hating was not passive. It was not something that was inherent to him. For him to hate as deeply and strongly as he did these days, it was a conscious effort, a constant struggle to deny himself any pleasures that he didn’t deserve, or couldn’t risk having. 

It was this kind of hatred however, that was arguably the strongest and most dangerous. It was not hating for the sake of hating. But rather, it originated from a place that once held not love, but something within that realm. An expectation, a hope —no, faith — that people were capable of being good. That if _he_ were the one who got better — whether it was to become stronger or weaker, be more assertive or more passive — then maybe then he would finally be allowed to see what was so good about this society, and what people had to offer. 

But with every failure, every betrayal, all he realized was that it wasn’t just his fault that nothing was changing, but rather everyone was working together to poison any potential goodwill society could have. His disdain crept up on him, black eye bags gradually etching themselves onto his skin. And so, slowly but surely, John learned to hate. 

Yet for a few hours last night, he was starting to forget that feeling. It was unacceptable. He was at a dangerous impasse — wanting to trust Blyke, yet knowing deep down that he couldn’t.

Just because Blyke read one book that said everyone should be treated with dignity, and actually agreed with the message, John was supposed to now have faith in him? Be his friend? The thought made him want to laugh and scream at the same time. He thought about what Blyke said about _UnOrdinary_ the other night.

_I was thinking more along the lines of everyone using their strengths to bring out the best in others. I mean, even the cripples in the book are portrayed as useful and having value to society. I think that’s pretty much ideal._

A few promising words, and John nearly let his entire guard down. John’s path of hatred was lonely, but it was also preferable to any other alternative. And yet, these past few days, he faltered and strayed. Just what was becoming of him? 

* * *

More than anything, Blyke wanted to talk about _UnOrdinary._ He wanted to share his thoughts with the world, with Remi and Isen, and even Arlo. And of course, Seraphina.

It was constantly on his mind, along with his interactions with John. For the rest of the day, he was spaced out, lost in his thoughts, to the point where Remi and Isen noticed that something was up.

“Blyke, is everything alright?” Remi asked, her brow furrowed, and eyes shining in concern. 

Blyke looked up from his notes. “Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”

Remi and Isen shared a look. 

“It’s just,” Isen started, “you seem kind of… I don’t know, out of it? Not really present.”

“I just have a lot on my mind. You know, school, the Safe House, not getting smacked in my own room—”

“Speaking of which, did anything happen… with John?” Remi asked carefully.

For a moment Blyke thought about what would happen if he told them everything. Him trying to sneak out, _UnOrdinary,_ playing cards with John. He imagined the astonished looks on their faces. He could practically hear Remi ask if she could also read the book, he could see Isen’s shell shocked expression when he heard just how many jokes he made at John’s expense, right to his face. It was all there, waiting to happen. He knew his friends well enough that he could predict their reactions. The confession was on the tip of his tongue, and by saying it he would set himself free, because at the end of the day, keeping secrets was lonely. 

But he promised John not to tell anyone about the book. Maybe he still wasn’t his biggest fan, but at the very least he had to respect him and his wishes. There was no other way to move forward.

He smiled at Remi. “Don’t worry, nothing happened. Everything’s going on as usual.”

They didn’t look convinced, and Isen’s next words confirmed it: “You still wanna move back in with me on the down-low?”

“No, and you know my reasons why.”

Isen didn’t look impressed. “I know, but I was hoping maybe you’ve changed your mind.”

“It’s all good, don’t worry.”

His friends looked worried.

* * *

For the next few days, Blyke carried on in deep thought. His interactions with John varied — it was as though he couldn’t make up his mind as to how he should act with Blyke. On some nights, he was dead silent, or worse — would be seething before Blyke got even a single word out, snapping at anything Blyke did. He never laid a hand on him, though. But on other nights, he was closer to what he experienced during their one and only card game night. The more Blke thought of it, the more he became desperate to recreate that night, even though he knew that it wasn’t within his control. It was on John, not him, to initiate anything.

* * *

One night, right before turning off the lights to go to bed, John suddenly spoke up.

“I don’t do it because I like it.”

Even though his words were vague, Blyke knew what he meant. 

“Then why?”

“Because I just have to. I can’t help it. Someone has to do it.”

“Have you ever considered therapy?”

“You’ll need physical therapy by the time I’m done with you if you ever bring this up again you fucking trash.”

And that was that.

* * *

Days have past, but no significant progress was being made. Also, Blyke didn’t have a chance to seek Seraphina out, yet. Once more, he was eating his lunch with Remi and Isen. 

“I was just wondering, what do you think John was like before going all rogue on us?”

“You mean when he was a cripple?” asked Isen. 

“Mhm.”

“I don’t know, why don’t you ask Seraphina?”

“But I’m asking you. Say, do you think if any of the actual low-tiers here get powerful all of a sudden, they would also snap?”

This time Remi responded: “If it happened earlier, then my answer would be yes, but now that we have the Safe House—”

“But didn’t we agree that the Safe House doesn’t work?”

“I think it does work, there’s just always room for improvement.”

“But earlier you said—”

“Blyke, it’s the best that we can do,’ Remi sad, with a hint of sadness on her face. 

“No, I think we’re just not trying hard enough to—”

“Blyke, get ahold of yourself,” Isen interrupted, his voice firm. Was he angry?

“I’m just saying—”

“No, Blyke. You listen. Lately you’ve been out of it, ever since you’ve started rooming with John. I can tell that you’re always thinking about something, and more importantly, it’s so obvious that you’re keeping things from us. You think I didn’t notice you flinch every time you had to stand up last week? You think we can’t tell when John hurt you? But what's most concerning is that you think you need to keep it a secret. Why are you trying to protect him anyway?”

So they did notice. It felt like forever ago, his first major confrontation with John in their dorm, when Blyke told him to back off from the Safe House. 

“It’s not like that—”  
  
“So he didn’t hurt you?” Remi asked.

“Look he did, but we sorted it out between the two of us.”  
  
“What the hell? Why aren't you telling us anything? You know, this whole time I was waiting for you to say something, but you never did. Not until I brought it up just now,” Isen said, and was that a hint of disappointment? 

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry!”

“Bullshit! You wouldn’t have been acting so distant if that was the case. All you do is think about John, I can just tell—”

“Stop it.”

“I’m just saying it how it is—”

“Shut up!”

Remi and Isen looked at him in horror. Blkyke then realized what he said, and immediately tried to fix his mistake. “Look, I’m sorry for acting distant. I’m not trying to worry you guys. It’s just that — well, on some nights it seems as though John and I are almost getting along.” He thought of him leaving him _UnOrdinary_ , convincing him not to go out and be a superhero, playing cards. Things that he never shared with his real friends, and yet still expected them to understand him. But at the same time, something told him that what he had with John should be kept private. It was a fragile situation they were in — the more people involved, the more likely everything was to go south. 

“I can’t explain it, but there’s more to him than we know, even from just his files. I feel like what he is now, isn’t really him. If I just try to understand him better, then maybe—”

“Blyke, you’re becoming obsessed with him. Do you even hear yourself? This isn’t healthy! And frankly, it’s not your job to “fix” him or to be his personal therapist. All that’ll happen is that you get dragged down with him, and for what? You’re not qualified to help with these sorts of things. You’re just a student.”

“I’m not obsessed.”

“But you are letting it take over your life.” This time it was Remi who spoke. “I think your intentions are great, Blyke. You are _so_ good. But you don’t seem present anymore. Even if you continue trying to get closer to John, don’t let it take over your life. No matter how many good points he makes, he’s volatile. He can turn on you any second. We just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I know you guys are worried, but I’m telling you, everything’s fine—”

“Blyke, at this point it’s clear that you have a hero-complex. So does Remi, but hers manifests in a different way. We respect you for trying to help John, or being supportive to him. But you need to think of yourself first. Sometimes it looks like you haven’t slept the entire night.”

Ah. That was from probably when he tried to play vigilante. 

“I appreciate what you guys are trying to say. But let me make this clear: I’m not trying to be his friend. I don’t think I can be. Not after what he did to you guys. But just because he did some wrong things, doesn't mean he wasn’t also wronged. To be honest, I think he doesn’t even need a friend. He just needs someone to acknowledge him and his situation. Maybe I can’t fully help him, but I can also do my best not to make anything worse for him. You know?”

And it was true. Blyke wasn’t trying to be John’s friend. But that didn’t stop him from being drawn to him, from wanting to know him better, to understand where he was coming from. He had a suspicion that in a way, they were kindred souls. What tied them together was a decisiveness; a need for change, and their drive to see it through _quickly._ Whether it be through the Safe House, being a vigilante, or becoming the Joker — they both had it in them to make drastic decisions. He suspected that Remi could have also gotten along with John, in another universe, but in this life she was still more set on the hierarchy than Blyke was. While John was on the extreme end of cynicism, Remi was an optimist at heart. It was Blyke though, who tethered somewhere in the middle. He may not want to be John’s friend yet, but he knew that he had a place in his life. 

“I think?” Isen seemed to ponder for a few moments. “But you need to start telling us more stuff.”

“He’s right,” Remi said. “In fact, when was the last time the three of us properly hung out? And by that, I mean leaving campus. Or doing something that’s not eating lunch or studying? Maybe you’ll open up to us more naturally, if we just relax together. I feel like everything’s so serious lately.”

“Fine, let’s do something tonight? I’m not too busy.”

Remi smiled, while Isen still looked tense. The truth was, Blyke couldn’t be mad at him. Perhaps to an outsider, his behaviour did seem strange. But he knew with time that his friends would come to understand. At the end of the day, they were just looking out for him.

Since he couldn’t risk sharing his thoughts about _UnOrdinary_ with them though, he had to settle for the next best thing, and find Seraphina. He felt a little uncomfortable approaching her on this topic. Would she be upset or shocked that John decided to share the book with him? However, her perspective on the book was bound to be interesting. Afterall, she befriended John as a god-tier when he was still only known as a cripple. That had to count for something. However, he decided that there was enough action for one day. He just needed to wind down and relax.

* * *

Sometimes John forgot why he kept Zeke around, before remembering his most redeeming quality: he may be an asshole, but at least he was consistent at being an asshole. In a way, it was reassuring. It didn’t stop him though, from being annoyed whenever he had to interact with him.

“Hey John!”

“What?”

He could already tell that whatever Zeke had to share with him, it would irritate him to no end. 

“So, I know you’re stuck rooming with Blyke again…”

John said nothing, ignoring that Zeke was waiting for him to ask him to elaborate.

“And, I was just wondering, does he know anything important?”

Now John was worried. “What’s it to you?”

“Well, it’s just, I noticed that sometimes he speaks with Arlo.”

“And?” It wasn’t a secret that Blyke associated with him.

“Well, I heard Arlo ask Blyke for any updates on you. I don’t know, it sounded like a regular thing.”

So that’s how it was. Perhaps Zeke was lying, but really, John doubted it. He could imagine the immense pleasure Zeeke would have if he were to watch both Arlo and Blyke get pummeled by him. Well, to be fair, he would probably also be happy to watch John fall, but no one could stand up to him right now anyway.

“Fucking trash.”

Zeke shifted his feet. “Them, or me?”

John once again ignored him. He still knew better than to completely trust Zeke. He would just see for himself next time he saw Arlo and Blyke together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More angst, I know. I feel like some parts of this chapter were difficult to read, but at the same time I think some things that needed to be said were said here. Now I can continue on the story in peace, lol. Again, thanks so much for everyone's support. Hope you enjoyed. :) Concrit is welcome.
> 
> Edit: I don't usually fastpass but I just did for the most recent chapter. Omg that so so good and now I have so much inspiration


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